


Spring Sorrows

by Shadowmire



Series: Ancient Winds [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-08 10:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14692656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmire/pseuds/Shadowmire
Summary: Post season 7- The Long Night has ended and the Night King defeated. Brienne and Jaime only wanted to retire to a nice quiet island and raise their children. The politics of the realm get in the way of their Happily-ever-after. Along the way, they meet some new allies to join in the fight against now very insane Queen Cersei. Including a young pirate searching for family, a lady who only dream is of revenge and a few other old friends.





	1. Hostages and Pirates

Chapter One  
Hostages and Pirates

The last golden rays of the evening sun sunk into the waves of the Summer Sea and heralded a twilight of stars that opened up in the night sky. The sprinkling of stars and the dim silvery glow of a crescent moon glimmered on the sea’s shifting waves. From high up on the main mast, Wally Frey could see the shadows of Iron Fleet as it barreled down on them. The incessant pounding of their drums reverberated off the hull of the Valyrian, a consent reminder of the Ironborn’s sinister intent. 

A volley of shooting stars flew across the sky, in the form of fiery arrows shot from the enemy ships. The Valyrian returned the sentiment with their own surge of fiery stars. From up on the mast Wally could hear the shouts from the deck crew below as they hurried to put out the flames before the blaze could spread to the sails. 

The crack of splintering wood sent a shiver down Wally’s spine. The galleon rocked violently, as the Ironborn ship collided with the Valyrian. Only the young pirate’s quick reflexes and balance prevented him from falling from the riggings. 

All seven hells descended on the galleon as Euron Greyjoy’s, flagship, the Silence, came alongside and its clawed corvus arm swung down to attach itself to the Valyrian’s deck. Even as the Ironmen boarded the fire continued, spreading from the sails to the mainmast. Wally climbed across the riggings and jumped to the mizzenmast before the burning mast collapsed into the sea with a loud crack. The young sailor grabbed hold of the riggings and swung to the quarterdeck, hacking at the Ironmen even as he flew over their heads to land near the helm. 

Wally was glad for his early training as a squire at Casterly Rock, or maybe it was his Lannister blood. His cousin Jaime Lannister had only been a year younger, when he became one of the youngest knights ever to join the Kingsguard. 

The young pirate fought his way to the helm. Joining his captain, Sallahdor Saan, the Lysene pirate was using both a broad curved cutlass and a long knife to fend off three Ironmen. Wally darted forward, kicking one of the attackers, sending the raider flying into the dark sea. Wally turned in time, thrusting his knife through the eye of the raider, who had tried in vain to attack Wally from behind. 

Wally turned to meet the blow of another old reaver, who having underestimated the young pirate’s skill with the sword, rushed forward. Block, jab, thrust, parry, the fight wasn’t even a challenge for the young man, soon the Ironborn lay moaning on the deck, his guts pooling onto the deck.

Wally raised his sword to block yet another raider’s swift strike. The man’s eyes suddenly went wide as he fell to the deck. Sallahdor smiled down at Wally as he pulled his cutlass from the man’s back.

Sallahdor and Wally turned and stood back to back, as the Ironmen continued their assault. Many Ironborn fell before the duo’s quick blades, before Wally and Sallahdor were overwhelmed.

Against the Ironborn’s insistent attacks, Wally staggered back. Red flashed in his eyes as an unseen raider smashed the hilt of his sword against the young man’s skull. When Wally awoke, his head throbbing painfully, as he lay sprawled on the blood stained deck, his arms tried behind his back. He struggled to his knees and looked around, blinking into the bright morning sun. Sallahbor Saan and the surviving Valyrian crew were kneeling nearby, their arms bound behind their back. 

The stocky Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet sauntered before them, like a peacock displaying its fine feathers. However, there was nothing fine about the battle-hardened Ironborn captain. A large grin spread across the man’s features, which only helped the wild look in his cold blue eyes seem more intimidating. 

“Captain Sallahdor Saan,” the man laughed loudly, “the infamous Pirate King? I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

Sallahdor actually had the nerve to look smugly up at the Ironborn captain, “The reputation of Sallahdor Saan precedes me. Are you jealous Greyjoy?…Jealous of my fame as a pirate, or my fame with women?”

Euron Greyjoy cruel laughed echoed through the crisp morning air, as he backhanded Sallahdor in the face, knocking the Pirate King onto the deck. 

“I heard you aided Stannis Baratheon in the Battle of the Blackwater,” Greyjoy said as he leaned over to grin wildly at the captain of the Valyrian, “Oh, the Queen will be pleased with my newest gift.”

Euron Greyjoy turned his attention at the rest of the Valyrian’s crew and yawned, “tie them to their dead and throw them overboard.”

“No!” Wally shouted, “you can’t...I’m…I’m-,”

Euron Greyjoy turned cold blue eyes to the young sailor, “I’m…I’m…,” Greyjoy laughed as he cruelly imitated the young man, “An insignificant nobody?”

Greyjoy motioned to his crew of Ironborn raiders, who roughly grabbed Wally and dragged him and the rest of the Valyrian’s crew to the ship’s railing, before tying them together. Euron Greyjoy would only take Captain Sallahdor and the Valyrian’s officers to Kings Landing for the queen’s justice.

“I’m a noble…,” Wally shouted in panic as he struggled against the tight grip of the Ironmen, “I’m Walder Frey!”

“The Late Walder Frey is an old dead man,” Euron Greyjoy laughed, “you’re going to have to come up with a better assumed name then that.”

“My Grandfather…,” Wally gasped as the struggled against his captures, “my parents are Lord Emmon Frey and Lady Genna Lannister of Riverrun…The Twins and Casterly Rock!” 

Sallahdor Saan and the surviving crew of the Valyrian turned to stare at their young crewmate in disbelieve. The young man had served on the Valyrian for two years. He had lived and drunk with them, and in all that time, the lad had never said a word about his past. 

Wally continued as he struggled against his captures, “The Queen, she is my cousin!”

“Wait,” Euron Greyjoy said and walked over to Wally and grabbed his chin turning his face from left to right, studying his handsome young face, “Maybe…the eyes are right and the shape of the face. Although, the nose is wrong and the hair is much too red to be a true Lannister.”

“He fought like the Kingslayer,” an old Ironborn raider hissed at Greyjoy.

“How do you know what the Kingslayer fights like?” Greyjoy glared at the old man.

“I saw the Kingslayer fight,” The Ironborn shivered under his captain’s gaze, “at the tourney in Lannisport.” 

“Other than the nose and hair he does have the Kingslayer’s look,” Greyjoy mused, “Even if he is lying it might amuse the Queen, she so misses her twin. Tie him up and throw in the brig with his captain, this may yet get interesting.”

-oOo-

As the sun filtered through the dense forest, a mosaic of light and dark played across the forest path. Light green buds had appeared on the trees and the undergrowth had changed from a death-like gray to living green.

Kevan, wondered off the path to explore amongst the new spring growth of brambles and bushes. Only a few patches of snow still held on in the shadows and the smell of decaying leaves and moss filled the crisps air. 

As they crossed a small wooden bridge, large masses of loose floating ice surged downstream to crash against the piers. Spring thundered with its own violence. Kevan disappeared from their sight, chasing after a red fox, as Bronn and Jaime rode over the bridge. It had seemed so long since they had enjoyed a quiet peace to just talk, joke and laugh. Had they ever had that chance? Had they ever had true peace, or had war and politics always tried to take away or destroy what they had? 

Jaime thought back on the past year, amazed by his own transformation and the people around him. The North, no longer hated him. They now called Jaime Lannister the Gold Lion. The label of Kingslayer finally laid to rest, if not forgotten. Bronn road north, an up-jumped sellsword turned knight. He had left as the Black Lion and Lord of Castamere after his uncle Martyn died during the final battle with the Night King. Jaime and Brienne had married in a northern ceremony in Wintefell’s godswood. Most importantly, their twin daughters Johanna and Cassandra were born only a few days ago at Casterly Rock.

Before they had left Winterfell, the King of the North, Jon Snow asked Jaime and Bronn to join the fight against Cersei’s forces in the south, but the king didn’t blame them when they declined. 

Now that they had returned Martyn’s bones to Castamere, Bronn planned to sail on to Braavos, to see just how much gold his grandfather, Lord Roger Reyne had secreted away in the Iron Bank. Jaime, Brienne and their young daughters would travel with Bronn only as far as Tarth, where they planned to retire on the nice quiet island, and raise their children. 

Ahead of them, though the thick forest, a loud roar echoed through the trees, “Kevan must have found that fox,” Bronn mused squinting down the tree-lined path. 

Suddenly Kevan dashed toward them and hissed, before turning around in a circle and darting back down the path. Bronn and Jaime urged their horse forward to follow the large saber-toothed-lion.

When they emerged from the forest, in the distance smoke billowed on the wind. Off to their west, Casterly Rock burned.

“No!” Jaime gasped and flipped his horse’s reins spurring the animal into a fast gallop. 

When they reached the castle, the gate still stood open and several guards lay in pools of their own blood, dead. Jaime shouted for Brienne as he and Bronn rode through the open gate.

“Ser Jaime,” a wounded guard moaned, staggering forward clutching a bloody wound on his side, “we were attacked by the Queen’s forces.”

“Where are Lady Brienne and the twins?” Jaime shouted at the man.

“Taken…,” the guard gasped under the angry glare of his former Lord Commander, “they were taken as hostages.”

Bronn rode up and whispered in Jaime’s ear, “This was an inside job, the gate wasn’t breached it was opened from the inside.”


	2. A Gift for the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Euron Greyjoy delivers young Wally Frey and Sallahdor Saan into the mad hands of the Queen. Meanwhile, Brienne and her children are held prisoner on a ship travelling to Kings Landing.

Chapter Two  
A Gift for the Queen

The Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet, Euron Greyjoy, marched the Pirate King, Sallahdor Saan and his officers, along with the youthful sailor, the one who looked like a younger version of Jaime Lannister, through the streets of Kings Landing.

The crowds of small folk cheered for their gallant captain. He had captured another enemy of the crown and the people loved him. It would mean more heads on spikes. He had to chuckle, _They did love heads on spikes._

Greyjoy remembered Jaime Lannister’s warning, if the people turned on him, they would gladly cheer to see his head on a spike. 

“They haven’t turned on me yet,” Greyjoy mused as he basked in the glow of the small folks’ loyal admiration. 

The Queen should be pleased, maybe not as happy as she was, when he delivered Ellaria Sand and her daughter into her hands. However, purging the seas of the notorious pirate, Sallahdor Saan, who aided Stannis Baratheon in his war against the Queen’s late son, should please her. 

The treasure Greyjoy had taken from the hold of the Valyrian would only sweeten the pot. The Queen needn’t know half of the treasure was already on its way back to the Iron Islands, just a bit of a finder’s fee. 

As Greyjoy rode into the Red Keep, the first thing he noticed was an oppressive quiet. The servants, lords and ladies of the court timidly skulked around the yard and gardens of the keep. That could only mean one thing, which was the Queen was in one of her agitated states. Euron didn’t mind, she as easier to manipulate during her bouts of sorrow.

Cersei’s spells of melancholy had come more frequently after the birth of the child, that hideous dwarfish monster. Cersei had refused to allow Euron to throw the creature into Blackwater Bay. Just to spite him, she continued to breast feed the little monster. He knew Cersei had no love for the child. She hadn’t bothered to name it, even though it was almost a year old. 

Euron Greyjoy entered the throne room and noticed the Queen perched elegantly on the Iron Throne. Even though she wore a scowl on her face, he could only marveled at how Cersei remained ever beautiful and regal even in the midst of insanity. 

“My Queen,” he announced with a floret bow, before he dragged Sallahdor forward, “I bring you, the King of Pirates, Sallahdor Saan, who dared scheme with the usurper Stannis Baratheon.” 

Cersei turned uninterested eyes on the pirate and merely waved her guards forward to lead the Sallahdor Saan and his officers to the black cells.

Greyjoy knew he was losing her, he yanked Wally forward, “…and I return to you…your cousin, young Walder Frey.” 

When Cersei’s cold green eyes fell on Wally, she gasped, “Jaime?”

Wally looked around in confusion. The court appeared not to have noticed the Queen’s odd remark. How could she confuse him with his much older cousin? When Wally looked at Euron Greyjoy, the Ironborn captain only shrugged and smirked. 

Cersei stood and walked slowly toward him, fearing he might disappear again, if she moved to fast, “Jaime, you have returned to me,” the Queen purred, “oh, how I have missed you.” 

When she reached the young man, Cersei ran her hand down his cheek and stared up into his emerald green eyes, which matched her own.

“Your Grace,” Wally shuddered, “I’m...I’m not Ser Jaime.”

The Queen didn’t appear to have heard him as she continued to gaze up into Wally’s youthful face. 

“Jaime…you’ve broken your nose,” she pressed her lips together and sighed, “all you care about is fighting and hunting, now look what you have gone and done.”

Wally shook his head, “I’m not Ser Jaime, Your Grace, its Wally…Red Walder Frey…your cousin.”

“Qyburn?” Queen Cersei either didn’t hear or ignored Wally’s claim, and turned to look at the old man standing next to the throne, “can you please fix Ser Jaime’s nose?”

The former Maester strolled down from the dais and clasped Wally’s chin turning his head back and forth to study the young man’s nose, “yes Your Grace, I believe I can straighten his…broken nose.”

“My nose isn’t broken.” Wally pleaded with the old man, “It has always looked like this.” 

Qyburn merely patted Wally on the shoulder and with a slight nod, the old man smiled knowingly. After his initial examination, Qyburn turned and walked back to his previous position next to the throne.

The Queen was immediately back in Wally’s face reaching up to run her fingers through his reddish-blond hair, which fell past his shoulder in thick waves. Wally kept his hair long to hide his large ears. Until he had grown his hair out, the crew of the Valyrian had teased him persistently about the size of his ears.

“I’m so happy you’ve grown your hair long again.” Cersei cooed as she took a long strand of his reddish-blond hair planning to tuck it behind his ear. 

When Cersei brushed his hair aside and saw Wally’s large ears, she stopped, her face turned dark and cold. 

“You are not Jaime!” the Queen slapped Wally hard across the face, “How dare you! Who are you?”

“Your Grace, I’m your cousin Wally…Red Walder Frey,” Wally shivered under her cold gaze, “your aunt, Lady Genna is my mother.”

Cersei stared at him in barely controlled hate, for a long moment before a hint of recognition crossed her still beautiful face. The Queen turned away and sat back down on the Iron Throne.

“You have been missing for almost two years,” Cersei scowled, but she at least appeared to have regained her sanity, “Where have you been?” 

“After I escaped the Unsullied assault on Casterly Rock,” Wally explained with a shiver, “the crew of the Valyrian rescued me from the sea and I have traveled with them ever sense.”

Cersei considered the youth for a long moment before she leaned forward clasping her hands together. 

“Oh, you poor dear, I am sorry to be the one to tell you,” the Queen cooed at the young man, “your parents have, betrayed me, betrayed the crown and sided with our enemies, the very people who tried to have you killed.”

“My…Mother, my Father… no, they couldn’t-.” Wally replied feeling lost and abandoned.

“I know how it feels, when your family, the people you love and are supposed to love you in return, betray you.” Cersei said with apparent sympathy, “You are safe now. Neither your parents nor their cruel allies can harm you here.”

The court, relieved the Queen had regained some of her sanity, cheered and clapped at her benevolent rule. 

“Has anyone ever told you,” the Queen finally said, “that you favor your cousin, my brother Ser Jaime? You look almost exactly like him, when he was your age.”

“Um, yes…Your Grace,” Wally shuttered, looking around the throne room, the court turned embarrassingly away from his gaze, “I have been…told I resemble him.”

“…and like your brother, young Walder is also a great swordsman,” Euron Greyjoy said smiling widely, “he cut down several of my men, before I could subdue him. It was glorious, like seeing Ser Jaime in his prime.”

“Really?” Cersei smiled and turned to look back at Wally, “Tell me Walder…how old are you?”

“Sixteen, Your Grace,” Wally replied. 

“Only a year older than Jaime, when he joined the Kingsguard,” Cersei smiled as an idea formed in her mind, “Walder, would you like to join my Queensguard?”

Wally shuddered, “please, Your Grace…I wish only to return to the sea.”

“Nonsense, you are now free of those foul pirates,” Cersei replied coolly, “They rescued you, I understand you might feel some lasting gratitude toward them, but you are of noble birth, you are not a pirate or a simple sailor.”

Cersei turned to one of her Queensguard, Ser Boros Blount, “please see that a chamber in made ready in Maegor's Holdfast for my young cousin, and ensure that he remains safe and secure, he has suffered enough.”

Ser Boros nodded and replied, “At once, Your Grace,” the knight sauntered up to the young man and roughly took Wally’s arm to lead him away. 

Cersei turned to Qyburn, “…and see what you can do about that nose.”

“Your Grace,” Qyburn bowed and with a sly smile followed Wally and Ser Boros out of the throne room.

-oOo-

The lavish chamber they had placed Wally seemed extreme to his young mind. Even though he was born noble, he had never slept in such splendor. At Casterly Rock he had been only one of many young squires, who all shared the same chamber.

Before that, Wally had lived at the Twins, surrounded by Frey cousins, uncles and aunts. The Twins had been over-crowded with the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of his grandfather, Walder Frey. Wally had shared a bedchamber with two of his cousins.

On the Valyrian, Wally had slept in a hammock in the crew quarters surrounded by snoring and often drunken sailors. 

The chamber, in which he now stood, included a bed, large enough for several Frey cousins to sleep comfortably. There was a table for private dining and a couch, lavishly upholstered in rich red fabric. A wardrobe stood against the wall and grandest of all, a large window, that opened up onto a wide balcony overlooking Blackwater Bay.

As Wally stood looking out at the ships in the bay longingly, he heard the door open and several servants entered carrying a tub, buckets of water, towels and scented oils, along with a large trunk. 

While two servants put garments from the trunk away in the wardrobe, the rest tried to help Wally out of his blood soaked sailor’s clothes. He brushed their hands away he didn’t need help undressing or bathing. On the Valyrian, when he felt the need to bathe, which wasn’t often, and if the ship anchored in some secluded cove, he would simple jump into the sea and swim around until the dirt and grim washed away. The young man sniffed at the scented oils, and decided against them. After a long bath, Wally went to the wardrobe and searched through the fine clothes the servants had left. He could tell just by looking, that all the clothes were too large. 

Wally wasn’t small for his age, the exertion of jumping from the riggings and hauling up the heavy sails on the Valyrian had toned his muscles. Wally was actually quite tall and strong, but he was still only sixteen and had not yet reached his full adult height. The clothes they had given him looked like they had once belonged to a full-grown man. 

Luckily, Wally wasn’t fussy, at the Twins he often wore previously owned clothing, mostly too large, handed down from older cousins. The young sailor pulled on a pair of tan breeches tying the drawstring on the waist tight so they wouldn’t sag around his hips. The shirt was even worse and he had to roll up the sleeves. 

The tan coat in a soft fine leather with a single asymmetrical wide red lapel also hung loosely and fell down past his knees. He cinched the wide dark, gold studded belt around his waist, which didn’t help. The coat still hung loose and baggy around his frame. 

After scrounging around in the bottom of the wardrobe, Wally found a pair of brown leather boots. Luckily, they actually fit properly, and at least he wouldn’t trip over his own feet. 

After he dressed, Wally went back out to the balcony and stared forlornly out at the bay. A knock alerted him to another visitor. 

The strange former Maester, Qyburn came in and poked, prodded and measured Wally’s nose.

“On the morrow, we should be able to get that fixed for you,” the man said with a kind smile as he had wrote down the measurements in his worn journal.

“My nose isn’t broken,” Wally again told the old man.

Qyburn only smiled kindly before he left Wally alone once again.

-oOo-

Cape Wrath fell behind as the large island came into view, shimmering in the distance. The hills of the Tarth appeared out of the mist.

Brienne stood at the ship’s rail as they passed her ancestral home. If only her father, Lord Selwyn Tarth, knew the ship that sailed through his waters carried his heirs, he would have mobilized his navy to rescue his daughter and granddaughters.

Brienne couldn’t help but lean against the rail and reach a trembling hand out to her home. The movement hadn’t gone unnoticed by the guards, who trailed Brienne whenever she walked on the deck. The crimson clad guards took a hurried step toward her. Concern written in their eyes, that the Lady of Tarth might try to escape. 

The thought had crossed Brienne’s mind, for only a fraction of a second. She was a strong swimmer, being born on an island, Brienne learned to swim before she could walk. If she were alone, Brienne would already be swimming toward Duncan’s Isle. Through the mist, Brienne could just make out the tall lighthouse that stood on the tall cliff of the small island off Tarth’s east coast. However, she wasn’t alone, her daughters and handmaiden Agnes were also Cersei’s prisoners. 

Jaime had named Agnes’ father Ser Cameron the Castellan of Casterly Rock on their return from the North. Agnes had survived the Long Night, and like everyone, she had fought in the war. The young woman had become a reasonably competent archer and bravely stood on the wooden towers of the investments that had surrounded Winterfell, as wights broke against the walls of the wood and earth barricade. 

Agnes emerged from below deck and noticed the fleeting, desperate idea of escape in Brienne’s eyes. The young woman shook her head, silently begging Brienne against any desperate actions. With a tinge of guilt, Brienne smiled assuredly to the young woman. The girl was thrown into a web of political intrigue against her will, and she would suffer for her loyalty. 

Brienne knew her captor approached when Agnes eyes went wide and she suddenly curtsied. The girl was after all a child of the West, and instinctively showed reverence to one of the Westerlands great lords. Damon Marbrand barely noticed the maiden as he walked past.

“You might survive,” The old man said, warning Brienne what she already knew, “But Lady Agnes and the infants would not.”

Brienne could only ask sadly, “Why are you doing this Lord Marbrand?”

“You need to ask?” the old man sneered, “Your husband robbed me of my son and heir.” 

The old lord spoke as if his son was dead, but Addam Marbrand hadn’t fallen in the Long Night. Like Jaime and Bronn, the knight had declined King Jon’s request to join the war against the Southern Crown. Ser Addam told the King of the North, he could never go to war against his own father. And, like Jaime and Bronn, Ser Addam had also sworn to stay out of the war. The knight decided instead, to remain in Winterfell and help Lady Sansa rebuild the north.

“Ser Addam once said, you still lived in a sane world, and couldn’t see that it had falling into madness.” Brienne gave the old lord a stern look, “he saved you from that madness, which you were to craven to even understand.”

The angry expression on Lord Damon face, warned Brienne she had gone too far, “Like you, my son only saw extremes. What is good and what is evil? It is all a matter of prospective. House Marbrand has always been loyal to our liege lords. Addam has betrayed that loyalty-.”

Brienne asked the old man, “Would you really ask him, to go to war against the very men he led into battle against the White Walkers?” 

After the undead dragon slaughtered most of the Dothraki and their leaders, Ser Addam had integrated the survivors into his outriders. The remaining Dothraki, loyal to Daenerys Targaryen, followed her south to retake the lands she had lost during the Long Night. 

“He led savages! Like some wild Dothraki horse lord,” Damon Marbrand snorted in disgust. 

“We all did what we had too, to survive, to save our families-,” Brienne reminded the old man.

Damon Marbrand stared at her with contempt and scowled, “…and I am doing what I have too. After I deliver you and your children to the Queen, she has promised to pardon Addam for his betrayal.”

Brienne realized she had been wrong about the old lord. He wasn’t craven, his only crime was loyalty to the memory of his liege lord, Tywin Lannister. He would never betray that memory, even though Lord Tywin’s daughter, the Queen had ordered his son’s death. By capturing Brienne and her children, he was doing what any parent would, saving his child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are LOVE!


	3. Sea of Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally begs Cersei to spare the life of his captain. In the meantime Jaime and Bronn rush through the Riverlands toward the Red Keep.

Chapter Three  
Sea of Insanity

Wally felt quite miniscule as he knelt before the Iron Throne. His cousin Cersei, the Queen, stared down at him, a lion on a gray and jagged throne. Golden light flooded in from large stain glass windows, casting the large chamber in a warm glow.

The bandages covering his nose itched terribly and Wally had to fight the urge to scratch. Red blotchy bruises had welled up under his vivid green eyes, making his entire face hurt. 

Qyburn had to, first break Wally’s nose, in order to straighten it. The former Maester had sworn after the swelling and bruising had gone down, and the bandages removed he would look and feel better. 

Wally hadn’t seen the purpose of straightening his nose in the first place. He hadn’t cared that his nose was crooked, he had never been vain about his looks. Wally was a Frey, and knew his family was the laughing stock in the Seven Kingdoms. No amount of beauty could erase the stain of being a Frey, especially a Walder Frey. 

“Your Grace,” Wally pleaded as he rose to his feet, “I beg you so show mercy.”

Cersei looked down the young man, from her seat on the Iron Throne. Her cousin Walder stood before her, pleading for the lives of…pirates. Although his sentimental weakness annoyed her, she knew she could use it.

“Cousin Walder,” Cersei sighed with a faked a honeyed smile, “I know you feel some gratitude toward these…men, but they are pirates and must be punished or every sea captain with a touch of larceny will turn to raiding.”

“Please…Your Grace, the Captain, he saved my life.” Wally begged the Queen.

The Queen replied with a sigh, “…and because he saved you, I am willing to show mercy. Instead of beheading, Sallahdor Saan and his officers will be sent to the Wall, to serve as Men of the Nights Watch for the rest of their days.”

“Thank you. Your Grace,” Wally said in relief, before bowing low, “I am ready to leave for the Wall as-.”

“Oh Walder,” Cersei said shaking her head, “You will be staying here, in the Red Keep…with your family.” 

A cold shiver ran down Wally’s spine. The Queen didn’t say it. She hadn’t needed too, the tone in her voice made it clear. If Wally wanted, Sallahdor Saan and the officers of the Valyrian to reach the Wall alive, he would never again leave the Red Keep.

-oOo-

The baby giggled in its bassinet as Wally playfully waved a small stuffed bird over its head.

“Albi-cross,” the child cooed, reaching its tiny arm up to snatch the toy from Wally’s hands.

“Albatross,” Wally corrected and picked the little infant up, holding the child high above his head and spinning around the room. 

“Albi-cross,” the small child laughed and held chubby arms and legs wide, as Wally continued to hold him high in the air.

Cersei watched her young cousin and her malformed baby boy as she sat serenely on a low couch near the window, absentmindedly picking through a basket of seashells.

Now that Qyburn had straightened Walder’s nose, and the bruising and swelling had gone down, the youth looked even more handsome, more like Jaime.

Although, the young man’s blond hair had a reddish hue instead of the golden shade of Jaime’s hair. Cersei didn’t mind that much, in the golden rays of the sunset, his hair could almost look gold. 

Walder had emerald green eyes, Lannister eyes, inherited from his mother. The youth’s ears, however, inherited from his father Emmon Frey, were much too large. He wisely grew his hair long to cover his one remaining flaw. 

“Whatever is an Albatross?” Cersei asked with a chuckle. 

Wally’s eyes light up as he carried the baby over, sitting down on the floor next to the Queen.

“A large sea bird,” Wally smiled, as he looked up at her. The youth was never happier as when he talked about the sea. The gold flecks in his emerald eyes danced in the setting sun.

“Once, when we sailed from Oldtown to the Summer Islands, an Albatross soared overhead, for the entire journey.” Wally said the awe evident in his voice, “It only flapped its wings once every few days.”

“That’s impossible!” Cersei twittered away his claim, “How could a bird stay aloft without flapping its wings?”

Wally shrugged, “I don’t know, Your Grace, but I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Walder, we are cousins…family,” Cersei smiled down at him, “You don’t have to call me, Your Grace, when we are alone.”

“Yes, Your…um, Cousin Cersei,” Wally said shyly.

“Just Cersei is fine,” she said kindly, “now tell me more of the sea.”

She enjoyed hearing Wally talk of the sea, it reminded her of when she and Jaime were young at Casterly Rock and he would tell her about his adventures as a squire and his dreams of becoming a knight. 

Cersei had made time to observe Wally training in the yard. Euron Greyjoy was right, Wally was talented, maybe someday he could even be as fine a swordsman as Jaime had once been. However, Wally’s passion wasn’t the sword it was the sea. 

She wouldn’t have him leaving on long sea voyages. The threat to the lives of his captain and the officers of the Valyrian was enough to keep him by her side, temporarily. She would have to figure out a way to keep him in Kings Landing, permanently. _I can’t lose you again,_ she found herself thinking. 

“I know where that shell came from,” Wally said interrupting her confused thoughts, and pointing at the large seashell she held in her hand.

“Where did it come from?” Cersei leaned forward and smiled down at him.

“A small island in the Summer Sea, the captain let me go ashore, and I collected shells on the beach, to sell in Oldtown.” Wally said and a smile spread across his youthful face, “Maybe that is one of them.”

“Maybe,” Cersei chuckled, she didn’t bother to tell him she had owned the shell for many years and it couldn’t possibly be the same one. 

“Cousin Cersei?” Wally said looking sadly down at the baby playing on his lap, “Why haven’t you named the baby?”

The Queen scowled, until Wally looked back up at her and she changed her expression into a sweet smile. She hadn’t named the little beast, because it was born a dwarf, and reminded her of Tyrion. Her brother had killed her mother, when he came into the world, and then her father. He would someday kill her, as prophesied. 

“I’ve been very busy sweetling,” Cersei lied with a saccharine smile, “ruling a kingdom takes time.”

“He should still have a name,” Wally said sadly.

“What name would you give him?” Cersei asked, she didn’t care to name the beast, but it seemed important to the young man.

“A Lannister name,” Wally replied as he looked at the small child, “like Tygett or Tion… I like Tion it sounds like lion, the sigil of your house.”

“Well then,” Cersei replied with a sweet purr, “Tion it is.” 

“Tion,” Wally smiled down at the little boy, “Your name is Tion, say…Ti-on.”

The child only responded by flapping his arms and babbling, “Albi-cross.”

Wally chuckled, “Albatross,” as he stood and picked up the infant, holding the child high in the air, and twirling around the room. 

Cersei watched her young cousin move around the chamber. His youthful beauty did please her. He reminded Cersei so much of her Jaime. 

Wally had stopped spinning and rocked the baby in his arms, singing a sea chanty about an old man, a wizard who sailed the fourteen seas for over forty years, searching for a lost magical staff. 

“I heard, I heard, the wizard say,  
When lions hunt, O’ ay-ay-ay, the fates hold sway,

For I have traveled the forever seas,  
For forty years, from the straights of Braavos to the Sothoyos cays,

A thunder staff O’ weirwood vines,  
To defeat the long night, I must find, secrets lost in time…”

The infant cooed and yawned widely. Cersei had to smile, Jamie used to sing to Tyrion, when they were young at Casterly Rock.

Cersei couldn’t understand why he was always playing and singing to that hideous little beast, _It killed mother,_ she thought as she stood up and clutched her fists.

“Put the little monster down,” she growled, staring into her twin’s emerald green eyes, “why do you insist on always playing with it?”

Wally stopped his song and looked at his cousin. He couldn’t help notice the strange look in the Queen’s emerald eyes. Wally recognized that look and it wasn’t good. He inched over to the bassinet and laid Tion down. He didn’t know what the Queen might do and he didn’t want the baby hurt. 

Meanwhile Cersei had closed the distance between them. She reached down and clutched Wally’s right hand, entwining their fingers together. She raised his hand to her lips, kissing the palm of his hand. 

“Jaime,” she sighed as she looked up into his eyes.

Wally froze, his mind racing, _please don’t do this._

The Queen placed her hands on his shoulders, rose up on her toes and began placing light kisses along his neck. 

“My brother…my lover,” Cersei whispered into his neck, “We will always be together.”

“Cousin Cersei…Your Grace,” Wally shuddered and tried to step away, “I’m…I’m not Ser Jaime.”

She didn’t hear his words as she leaned against him, reaching up to cup his face in her hands, kissing along the line of his chin. 

Wally grabbed her hands roughly pulling them away from his face. Cersei looked up at him and smiled. The twinkle in her emerald eyes, said she didn’t mind his firm grip on her hands. Wally raised her hands up to his ears. 

As her fingers wrapped around his large ears, Wally said calmly so he wouldn’t startle her, “Your Grace…It’s Walder Frey…your cousin.”

Recognition and a semblance of sanity flooded into the Queen’s eyes, “Walder what are you doing?” she gasped and took a step backwards.

“You…were just…um…telling me to be careful, while I walked through the godswood…with Tion…with the baby.” Wally said thinking fast, “You grabbed my ears, just like mother used to do, to remind me to be careful.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Cersei replied and sat back down on the couch, “If you take the baby to the godswood, you must be careful.”

Wally picked up Tion and hurried to the door. He didn’t go to the godswood. Instead, he headed to his own chamber. He would keep Tion safe. Maybe, in the morning the Queen would recover her sanity. 

He wasn’t hopeful. Her delusions had gotten worse and far more frequent, ever since the Army of the North and the Dragon Queen had passed the Twins and started retaking castles in the Riverlands.

-oOo-

In the crisp air of spring, the skeletal stalks of the remains of last summer’s tall grasses stood quiet and still. As the two horses, their riders, and a large fanged lion raced fast, down the middle of the Gold Road.

Small folk in the fields only glanced up at the riders, before bending again to the task of tilling the hard packed soil. Women and children walked through the field, pulling the old stalks and removing rocks. Their hands and feet bloody and sore, as they moved as a group over the hard rocky earth. 

Most of the women and children in the field hadn’t expected to see another spring. Years of war had destroyed the small stockpile of grains they had managed to save for winter. The men of the Riverlands who had not died in the wars, had gone north to fight in the Long Night. Most had not yet returned, either they were dead or they still fought for the Dragon Queen. 

The Maesters in the Citadel, the Septons in their Septs, even the Crown, in the high towers of Kings Landing, had warned them it would be a long and cold winter. 

The winter was bitterly cold and the snow had covered their homes and fields like a thick shroud of death. The sky had turned a filthy, hazy green as the sun refused to rise for months. Mothers tucked their children into bed each night not knowing if they would wake in the morning. Even in the south, the small folk, in desperation turned from the Faith of the Seven and started praying to the old gods.

Then without warning, the warm fingers of the spring sun swept away the green haze and life returned. It appeared the old gods had answered their prayers. 

Spring had returned, but not peace, war still raged through the Seven Kingdoms. While the Dragon Queen’s army, the Northmen and the Army of the Riverlands had fought against the Long Night, the crown had retaken the castles and lands it had lost. The Dragon Queen and her allies were rapidly reclaiming their lost territory. 

As the riders reached the banks of the Blackwater Rush, they couldn’t help but notice the large army camped along its banks. The banners that rippled in the crisp spring breeze identified it as mostly consisting of the Army of the Riverlands. Jaime’s uncle, Lord Emmon Frey, had decided to fight for the King of the North and the Dragon Queen. 

“Kevan!” Arya Stark happily laughed as Bronn, Jamie and the large lion entered Lord Emmon’s Command Tent. 

At first, Jaime was surprised to see Arya Stark, the young blacksmith Gendry and Sandor Clegane in the company of his uncle. Until he remembered how protective, Arya had become to the old man during the last weeks of the Long Night. She had taken it on herself he be his sworn sword and shield and his chief advisor. 

Clegane had apparently tagged along, out of both a sense of loyalty to the Stark sisters and avoidance of the Dragon Queen and the King of the North, who were still trying rather unsuccessfully, to knight the gruff warrior and name him Lord of Clegane Hall.

Arya fretted over Kevan and the Hound sneered at the saber-toothed-lion, in response Kevan hissed back at the large man. Meanwhile, Jaime explained how Cersei’s forces had attacked Casterly Rock and taken hostage, Brienne and their newborn twin daughters.

“My army as always is at your disposal,” Emmon Frey offered.

“If Cersei were to see an army approaching,” Jaime replied shaking his head, “she would immediately kill Brienne and the girls.”

Emmon asked, “Whatever does she want?” 

Jaime sighed, “She wants me to return to her side.” 

“Then I would suggest you give her what she wants.” Arya said with a sly smile.


	4. Bitter Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne arrives at Kings Landing, as Jaime still is making his way toward the capital. Wally discovers that Cersei can never be trusted.

Chapter Four  
Bitter Lies

The sea going vessels swayed back and forth smoothly in the calm waters of Blackwater Bay. From the balcony, of his Chamber, Wally could look out over the bay and the city docks. The young sailor would spent hours gazing forlornly out over the bay, the deep waters beckoning to him, but not today. Today, Wally would escape from Ser Boros Blount’s dull, but watchful eyes. On the Queen’s order, the knight followed Wally everywhere, denying the young man the chance to explore the Red Keep and Kings Landing.

The young, former pirate crawled over the railing of the balcony and dropped down to the ledge below. Gradually, by jumping and climbing along the rough stones of Maegor's Holdfast, Wally made his way down to the yard. He smiled at his cleaver escape from the dimwitted Blount, who no doubt, would still be standing outside Wally’s chamber door, oblivious to the fact that his charge had eluded him.

Wally crept along the outer wall of the keep, avoiding the occasional guard or courtly catspaw. Searching for a way out of the keep, Wally hoped to walk along the docks and talk to the sailors. He didn’t plan to leave King’s Landing, he knew the Queen would order Sallahdor Saan’s death if he did. He just needed, one last time, to surround himself with the sights and sounds of the sea.

Passing under the low archway, which lead out into the city below. Wally found himself on Traitors Walk. Ser Boros never allowed Wally anywhere near the exits of the Red Keep. Rows of severed heads, enemies of the crown, rotted on spikes in front of the squat tower, the upper floors, where highborn prisoners awaited their fate in relative comfort.

The heads, warning the small folk and nobles alike what happened to those who defied the Crown. Morbid curiosity won out and Wally looked up at the poor fools who had earned the Queen’s wrath.

Horror filled his eyes as he saw their faces. Many of the heads, already picked over by crows, were still recognizable. One eyeless head, with the dark complexion of a man from the Summer Islands belonged to the Captain of the Valyrian, Sallahdor Saan. Mounted on the spike next to the captain, the head of Old Nick, the Valyrian’s gruff northern quartermaster stared eyeless toward the docks.

Salty tears glistened in Wally’s eyes as he looked from one head to another. The captain and all of the officers of the Valyian were dead, Cersei had promised to spare them, and send them north to the Wall. _Why had she had lied?_

A wiser, more intelligent man would have fled, found a ship leaving port and sailed away from Kings Landing and its mad Queen forever. Wally wasn’t wise and he wasn’t intelligent. Clenching his fists, he stormed back into Red Keep, startling the guards who hadn’t even realized he was missing.

Cersei wasn’t in the throne room so Wally made his way to her solar, readying himself for the upcoming confrontation. He knew she was in there, because two Gold Cloaks stood guard at the chamber door.

Wally easily avoided the clumsy hands of the guards, as they attempted to prevent him from entering. The young man dropped down into a crouch and snatched a knife from the belt of one of the guards. Jumping backwards and out of their reach, as they tried to corner him, Wally was too swift and darted away.

When the door flew open and the Mountain, Gregor Clegane stepped out to investigate the commotion. Wally dashed under the giant man’s arms and into the large chamber.

Wally shouted as he entered the solar, “You lied! You killed them all!”

The Queen merely, calmly looked up at him, as the Mountain grabbed the back of Wally’s red leather jerkin and held the youth struggling in the air. Cersei remained sitting serenely behind her desk holding a small infant, who wasn’t Tion.

“Walder, sweetling,” She cooed more to the small child in her arms then him, “I am quite busy at the moment, can’t this wait?”

“No…it can’t wait,” Wally scowled, as the Mountain twisted the knife from his hand, before dropping the young man to the floor.

As Wally rose to his feet, he noticed the tall woman standing off to the side of the chamber between two guards. A gag stuffed in the woman’s mouth and her arms tightly bound in front of her. She wasn’t beautiful, the woman was far too tall and muscular. Her shoulder length pale blond hair lay in a disheveled mass. She wore a tattered man’s blue quilted gambeson and brown breeches and boots.

Nevertheless, Wally couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was somehow, fascinating. Red splotchy bruises rose on her pale freckled face. It was obvious the woman had been tortured. Yet, she wasn’t broken, defiant blue eyes stared at the Queen in cold hatred. _She has amazing eyes,_ Wally noticed.

“Don’t look at that…thing!” Cersei hissed, when she noticed to whom Wally looked.

Wally turned his eyes away from young woman and back to Cersei. Remembering why he had barged into the Queen’s solar, he scowled, “You killed the Captain and the-.”

“They were pirates,” Cersei interrupting him with a sneer of contempt, “The punishment for piracy is death. Did you really expect me to spare their lives? Are you that stupid?”

“Then are you going to kill me as -,” the young man started to say, _Wasn’t I also a pirate?_

“Walder, you do amuse me,” Cersei hummed up at him, “but you are only a cheap imitation of the real thing. My Jaime will soon return to my side.”

The tall woman struggled in the grip of the guards, even with the gag in her mouth it was obvious the most unladylike statements were trying to escape. One of the guards punched her in the stomach causing her to double over in pain.

“Just like that little beast,” Cersei continued and motioned to the bassinet, where Tion and another small child slept peacefully, “is only a cheap imitation of the child, who should have rightfully been mine.”

"Jaime's and mine,” Cersei purred down at the child in her arms, as the baby girl opened brilliant emerald green eyes to look up into the Queen’s face.

“I have no further need of that little monster, or that other foul little creature,” Cersei said motioning to the bassinet, where Tion and the other small baby slept, the Mountain stalked forward.

The guards had to hold the tall woman back. Even though she was obviously in great pain, she struggled against their grasps, trying to reach the child in the bassinet. Finally, one of the guards used the hilt of sword to knock the woman unconscious.

Wally realized what the Mountain intended, and darted past the giant man and pulled Tion from the bassinet, before backing away from the giant’s sinister red-eyed stare.

“You can’t he’s your son!” Wally pleaded as he clutched Tion tightly in his arms.

“You do love the little beast?” Cersei said in disbelief, “I will allow it to live, if you swear to stay forever by my side and join my Queensguard.”

“…and the other child?” Wally asked, as he watched in horror as the Mountain continued to lumber toward the bassinet. In his panicked haste, Wally had only grabbed Tion and felt mortified he had left the second child, sleeping helplessly inside the bassinet, to her doom.

The Queen sighed, “Oh, very well,” as she motioned to her handmaid, “Bernadette, take both of the creatures away, they shall live, but I want them kept out of my sight.”

-oOo-

A strong spring breeze fluttered at the Jaime’s hair as he looked down at Kings Landing from the top of a high precipice. Jaime couldn’t help but think back to the last time he stood on this cliff. He and Bronn had just returned from retaking Riverrun from the Tully forces, led by the Blackfish, Brynden Tully.

This time, at least rising smoke didn’t linger over the distant city. Thankfully, Cersei had not blown anything up lately. However, her madness was still present. He clutched the parchment the queen’s man had given Ser Cameron, the new castellan of Casterly Rock. The letter written in Cersei’s neat script was half, insane ramble, claiming her love for him, and begging him to return, and half thinly veiled threats to Brienne’s and their two daughters, if he didn’t comply with her demands.

Jaime turned to look at his companions. Bronn, and Sandor Clegane were already disguised in long hooded cloaks that hid their faces. Bronn would use his contacts in the Gold Cloaks to slip into the city undetected and set up a command center in the secret tunnels under the Red Keep.

The young blacksmith Gendry, cloaked in rich satins and silk. The young man was the perfect image of an assistant to a rich merchant.

Arya Stark crouched down facing away from them, doing…something, Jaime couldn’t tell what. Nearby, Kevan, locked inside an iron cage placed on top of a large cart. The large lion wasn’t pleased with his predicament and paced back and forth.

Six Unsullied soldiers stood nearby, hesitantly casting timid glances toward the young woman. Jaime had to wonder why the fearsome warriors were so edgy around Arya Stark. That was until she turned around to face them.

As Arya Stark rose to her feet and turned, the small statured woman appeared to grow taller and wider. The knight gasped, instead of Arya Stark, a fat Tyroshi merchant stood, complete with bright green hair and a tri-forked purple beard decorated in flashy gold and pearl beads.

Kevan hissed and backed away from the strange figure who was once Arya Stark, bumping into the iron bars and rattling the cage. Bronn hurried over, forced to try to calm the large lion before he broke free of his confinement.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bronn asked looking at the strange Tyroshi merchant, who wasn’t, what he appeared.

“Kevan will adapt,” a male voice replied in a thick Tyroshi accent, which in no way resembled Arya’s much higher and softer tone, “and he will be useful against Cersei guards, if we are discovered in the Red Keep.”

“Skoros narys iksis bisa?” One of the Unsullied warriors looked at Arya and shuddered.

“Gīda ilagon,” Arya scowled at the foreign warriors, “sepār gaomagon aōha gaomilaksir.”

Her statement didn’t help, the six unsullied warriors continued to look uncomfortable in her presence. They appeared ready to dart away, only their training kept them in place.

“I am now, Jaceo Vasilias, a rich Tyroshi merchant,” Arya turned to the rest of her companions and said with an evil smirk, “who will win the favor of the Queen of Westeroes, with this fine gift, a powerful living symbol, of the sigil of her house.”

“I wonder what happened to the real Jaceo Vasilias?” Bronn asked with a shudder.

“Fuck, I don’t even want to know,” The Hound said in a gruff voice as he hitched his pack over his shoulder and headed toward the city.

-oOo-

The day after Bronn and Sandor Clegane slipped into Kings Landing, a lone rider on a fine white Palfrey appeared at the Kings Gate. The small folk whispered and stared as he made his way through the city streets. His head held high, letting the people see him. He wanted his presence in the capital known.

News of his arrival had already reached the Red Keep, two of the Queensguard, Ser Balon Swann and Ser Osmund Kettleback, met their former Lord Commander at the gate of the Red Keep. They roughly pulled Jaime from his horse and disarmed him before they led Jaime into the throne room.

An overwhelming sense of familiarity filled Jaime’s soul. It felt like he had lived this before, as if he was walking through time and into the past. An insane monarch, a queen this time, sat on the Iron Throne. Standing off to her left and slightly behind, stood a white cloaked young guard, who looked eerily familiar.

The young man’s armor was different from the rest of Cersei’s Queensguard. The older knights all wore the crisp, newer shinning black armor. The youth wore the older, white and gold armor. Jaime suddenly realized, it was his old armor the youth wore, from when he served as a Kingsguard to Aerys Targaryen, when Jaime was just Seventeen. The young man was obviously not yet fully-grown. Maybe, Jaime’s old armor was the only mail that would fit him.

Jaime shuddered as he recognized the look on the young White Cloak’s face. The youth stared forward into nothingness. The young man had gone away, into his own mind to escape some horror. Jaime knew the look, because it was what he had done, while he served the Mad King Aerys Targaryen, second of his name. Jaime involuntarily shuddered, what could Cersei have done, to cause such a reaction.

Jaime gasped in sudden realization of why the young man looked so familiar. It wasn't just the armor, It was Jaime's own face that stared into nothingness. As if he was looking into a mirror, had he gone back in time over twenty years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are Love


	5. Machinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime is trapped in Kings Landing, awaiting the arrival of Arya Stark and rescue for his family.

Chapter Five  
Machinations

Cersei could hardly contain her excitement, her brother, her Jaime, had finally returned to her. She was still angry with him, of course, for his lack of faith. His betrayal had hurt her, and she would punish him for that disloyalty, eventually. However, that could wait, for now she was overjoyed, he had come to his senses. He had returned home, to where he had always been, where he belonged. 

Her heart fluttered was she entered her solar, her beautiful brother was lounging on a gilded couch looking out the large window , which overlooked Kings Landing.

The light breeze that drifted through the curtains tousled Jaime’s golden hair. He looked thinner and older, understandable considering what he had been through this last year. It was his own fault and she wanted to be angry but she couldn’t, she wanted him always with her, inside her.

“Jaime,” she cried and threw her arms around his neck, “My brother, my lover, you’ve come back.”

So great was the overwhelming pleasure at seeing Jaime again, it took Cersei a moment to realize her brother had not returned her embrace. 

Outwardly, Jaime remained stiff as he continued to look out through the curtains. On the inside, emotions flooded through Jamie’s soul, he had loved his sister once, loved her more than his own wretched life. He could almost remember the frightened young girl, crying in his arms after the first time Robert Baratheon had slapped her beautiful face in a drunken rage. He would have killed Robert that day, if she hadn’t stopped him.

An ache in his gut, for what had once been, for what could have been almost overwhelmed him. After all she had done, how could he still feel…love. 

Jaime refused to look into his twin’s eyes, worried if he did, he would once again fall into the abyss that was Cersei’s love. She had made him whole, his second half, wasn’t that what he had always thought? Yet, if he didn’t look, would be ever truly know if he was free. 

Willing himself to meet her eyes, a shiver ran down his spine, would he fall under her will? He almost expected to see the young girl he had loved beyond all reason. He didn’t, all he saw was madness and hate.

“Jaime, there is no need to fear…I forgive you,” she sighed misunderstanding the expression in his eyes.

“You…forgive me?” Jaime couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was she that delusional?

“Of course I forgive you, you are my brother,” Cersei sighed, “…you fucked…that...that creature, you were lost, confused, but that is over now.” 

“Where are my wife and children?” Jaime finally asked coldly, as he rose to his feet and walked to the window, refusing to look back at her.

Cersei signed, she would have to end the infatuation he had with that beast of a woman. 

“They are safe,” she said in a scowl of barely controlled anger, “but they shall remain prisoners, until you come to your senses.” 

“And then what?” Jaime asked haughtily, “you will kill them?” 

“I am not a monster,” closing the distance between them Cersei reached up and turned his head to meet her gaze. Where her hand touched his face, her fingers seemed almost to burn into his skin.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from his face, “Then you have fooled me and almost everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms. Because we all believe that you are.”

“Everything I have done,” Cersei cried, “I have done for us, for our love, for our children.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Jaime growled.

Cersei spat in hatred, “Your whore and her spawn will be sent back to Tarth or Winterfell or whichever of the Seven Hells they crawled out of.”

Jaime didn’t believe her, he had learned, it had taken years, but he had learned. He knew if he ever surrendered to her will, Brienne and the twins would be dead.

“So I am to remain here?” Jaime asked, “Until you can again twist my mind to your will.”

Cersei opened her mouth to threaten, cajole, or implore him to see reason. Only a knock on the door interrupted her hollow pleads. After a brief pause, Cersei’s handmaiden entered carrying a small bundle.

“The child, Your Grace,” Bernadette said, placing the small bundle in the bassinet, before bowing and backing slowly out of the chamber.

Cersei picked up the child and sat back down on the couch. At first, Jaime believed the baby was Cersei’s, and she would use the child as a pawn to manipulate him and convince him to stay by her side. She had done it before, with their other children.

Until Cersei uncovered the baby’s face, Johanna’s vivid green eyes blinked up at the Queen. 

To his horror, Cersei opened her bodice and began to suckle the small baby at her breast. Jaime looked at the mad woman, holding his child, for a brief moment too stunned to move. 

“Isn’t she beautiful…our child,” Cersei cooed down at Johanna, “the gods tried to fool us, but I saw through their trickeries. This adorable little one is my…our child.” 

Rage flowed through Jaime muscles, and he stepped toward his mad sister, intent on breaking Cersei’s neck, only to find the Mountain standing in his path. 

“Johanna isn’t yours,” Jaime growled at his sister. 

“Don’t you see Jaime,” the Queen purred, “she was meant to be ours.” 

“What have you done to your own child?” Jaime asked.

“Johanna is my child-,” Cersei corrected him with a soft purr. 

“You know of whom I speak,” Jaime scowled down at the mad Queen.

“That little monster?” Cersei cried and turned away, “was born deformed, a hideous little beast, Euron tried to throw it into Blackwater bay, but I wouldn’t allow it.”

Cersei stroked Johanna small head, and hummed softly, “I knew there had to be a reason I kept that hideous monster alive, I thought it was because it was yours. I even let it drink from my breast,” she looked up at Jaime and smiled, “I understand now, it was so I would have still have milk when my real child, my little Johanna, finally arrived.”

“Fuck!” Jaime sneered, and fought the overwhelming urge to throw-up, “You are truly insane!”

“You will see, in time.” Cersei replied.

“The Seven Hells I will,” Jaime growled at her and turned away, he couldn’t watch her perversions any longer.

Cersei could ignore his outbursts, but she wouldn’t have him upsetting her precious little Johanna, “Ser Gregor please, escort Jaime to his chamber and make sure he is well guarded.”

The Mountain conducted Jaime to a room not far from the Queen’s bedchamber and rather roughly pushed him inside. Jaime heard the sound of keys turning in the lock. He sighed and looked around the large chamber it was quite opulent, as expected.

-oOo-

Jaime lay on the soft feather bed, staring at a small linen scrap. The embroidery Brienne had made while trapped in Martyn’s tower as the blizzard howled thought the Riverlands. He traced his finger over the rough design of a lion and stars.

“We will be together soon, I promise,” Jaime whispered and pressed the linen scrap to his lips.

Jaime went over the plan in his mind. Arya would arrive in a few days, disguised as a Tyroshi merchant bearing gifts to curry the Queen’s favor and gain access to the keep.

With luck, Jaime would have discovered where Cersei had hidden Brienne, Cassandra and Johanna. Arya would release Brienne and the twins, and secret them away. Bronn and the Hound, hidden in the sewers beneath the city would lead them to a waiting boat in Blackwater Bay. 

They hadn’t planned on Cersei becoming obsessed with Johanna. The little girl would most likely be near Cersei and, no doubt, guarded. That would make it more difficult to sneak her out of the Red Keep, but they couldn’t leave Johanna to Cersei’s insane manipulations. 

He knew Cersei wouldn’t keep him locked in this chamber forever. She would assuredly assign one of her Queensguard to watch him. As long as it wasn’t the Mountain, Jaime knew he could outwit or outfight any of her sycophants. 

When Jaime heard the door open he refused to turn around, “Cersei…I can’t even look at you right now.” he growled. 

“I’ve been called Jaime enough,” a young voice chuckled, trying to hide a hint of sadness, “I guess, since you’re twins, it was only a matter of time before someone called me Cersei.”

Jaime turned around to see the young Queensguard, the one who looked like a much younger version of himself. The young man was still wearing Jaime’s old armor. Only oddly enough, the youth now held a small child in his arms.

“Who are you?” Jaime asked as he sat up to look at the young man.

“Wally…Red Walder Frey…your cousin.” Wally answered, trying to smile, his emerald eyes darted around the chamber, and it was obvious the youth was nervous. 

“I thought you were dead,” Jaime said dully and turned away from the youth, not really in the mood to talk to one of Cersei’s catspaws. 

“I thought maybe…,” Wally said in a small timid voice, “you might want to meet your son.”'

“Does Cersei know you are here?” Jaime asked, but he couldn’t resist standing up and looking down at the small child in his cousin’s arms.

“No…!” Wally shuddered and his eyes widened in concern, “please don’t tell her…she will punish Tion! I…just thought-.”

“Is this Tion?” Jaime asked caressing the baby’s innocent face. A thick mop of golden hair covered the infant’s overly large head. The child smiled up at Jaime with vivid Emerald green eyes and grabbed his finger.

Wally nodded, “She hates him, because he was born a dwarf,” the youth said as he let Jaime take the child from his arms, “when the other baby…Johanna arrived a few days ago, the Queen ordered the Mountain to kill him.”

Anger filled Jaime’s eyes, and he unconsciously pulled the child closer, “how is he still alive?”

“The Queen promised if...if I joined the Queensguard,” a shiver ran down Wally spine as he remembered all the oaths he was forced to say, "she said…she would spare Tion, and the other baby.”

Jaime realized the other baby, must be Cassandra. Of course, Cersei would want Cassandra dead. She was a living reminder of Jaime’s love for his wife, because, unlike Johanna, who had his green eyes, Cassandra had blue eyes, Brienne’s amazing sapphire blue eyes. 

“Thank you,” Jaime said with a sigh of relieve.

“I know you plan to escape,” Wally said, and when Jaime looked up in concern, the young man quickly added, “Don’t worry…I won’t tell, I only ask, that when you leave, you take Tion with you.”

“Of course,” Jaime replied as he sat down on the bed and held his young son. Looking at his chubby face, Jaime couldn’t help but smile fondly at his little boy.

“…’ot ‘olly,” the child gurgled as he patted Jaime’s gold hand in confusion.

“He talks! already?” Jaime said in awe as he glanced up at Wally.

“He’s really smart,” Wally said proudly and sat down next to Jaime, “he can say lots of things.”

Tion reached for Wally and cooed, “albi-toss.” 

“Better,” Wally chuckled at the little boy and said slowly, “al-ba-tross.”

“How did you end up in Kings Landing,” Jaime asked his young cousin, “you don’t seem like one of Cersei’s regular catspaws.”

Wally explained how he had escaped the attack on Casterly Rock, his life as a pirate on the Valyrian and how he had come to live at the Red keep. He shuddered when he told Jaime of Cersei’s promise to spare the lives of the Valyrian’s captain, and then her subsequent betrayal. 

“You see why you have to take Tion with you,” Wally sniffed and looked at Jaime with pleading green eyes, “Her promises are hollow, she will kill Tion eventually, I know it.”

“What about you?,” Jaime asked the young man, “Do you wish to stay?” 

“I would leave if I could,” Wally shuddered and lowered his head in shame, “sometimes the Queen…she…she-.”

“What?” Jaime asked, “What has she done to you?”

“Sometimes she becomes confused and believes I’m you, she calls me Jaime and she…,” Wally shook and tried to hold back a sob, “she touches me. I don’t want her too, honest. …It’s wrong…we’re cousins.”

Wally shuddered at the memory of Cersei kissing his neck and running her fingers through his hair.

“I know the other noble families look down at us Freys.” Wally continued in a whisper, “They say, Grandfather would marry us off to different houses, just to gain influence…well maybe that was part of it, but…but us Freys, we don’t…do what she wants…with cousins.”

Wally looked up at Jaime hoping he hadn’t offended his cousin, he had heard the stories, and Tion was living proof the rumors were true, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend-.”

“No offence taken,” Jaime smile reassuringly at the young man. He realized Wally was justifiably terrified of Cersei, “I promise you, she will pay for what she has done to you…to everyone.”

“Albi-toss up ‘ot ‘olly,” Tion cooed and reached up and lightly touched Jaime’s face. 

“He’s calling me ‘Not Wally’ isn’t he?” Jaime chuckled at the little boy.

“Daddy,” Wally said pointing to Jaime, before he turned to his older cousin and said a little guiltily, “I’m sorry, I’m the only one who ever talks to him.” 

“There is no need to be sorry, I am grateful you were here for him. What else is he saying?” Jaime grinned at the cleverness of his young son. 

The young man translated with a chuckle, “he wants you to lift him in the air and spin around. He likes to pretend to soar through the air, like an albatross. It’s a large seabird-.”

“I know what an Albatross is,” Jaime chuckled and stood up, holding Tion high in the air as he spun around. The little boy giggled playfully. After a few minutes, Jaime sat down, and ruffled his son’s golden hair. 

Wally smiled as he looked from the small child to Jaime, “Tion usually doesn’t ask anyone except me to pick him up. He is smart enough to know they won’t. He already trusts you.”

Jaime smiled down at the child before turning to Wally, “Come with us, when we leave.” 

After hearing his young cousin’s story, Jaime knew he couldn’t leave him to Cersei’s machinations. 

“But…I swore an oath, I’m in the Queensguard now,” Wally cried looking down, knowing he was forever doomed to his fate, “I can never leave.”

“You swore that oath under duress,” Jaime replied shaking his head, “No one will blame you-.”

“They blamed you,” Wally said and looked up at this older cousin.

“Only because I never explained myself,” Jaime said with regret. If he had only told Ned Stark at the time, what really happened, why he stabbed the mad king in the back. 

“After we escape, we will go to the King of the North and explain the situation.” Jaime told the young man, “You won’t be called an oathbreaker…I promise.”

“Really?” Wally looked up hopefully, youthful trust in the emerald green eyes.

Jaime didn’t really know if the stain of being an oathbreaker would follow the young man or not. People were often cruel and stupid, but Wally couldn’t stay here, it was killing the young man’s soul a little bit each passing day. 

“We could use your help,” Jaime said to the young man, “Can you get a message to my wife?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback, it helps and they are LOVE!


	6. A Gift for the Queen II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime makes his way through the palace intrigue of Kings Landing, as the plan to escape begins to fall into place.

Chapter Six  
A Gift for the Queen II

The rain had come and gone, large droplets of icy cold waves crashed down the sides of the tower, where Brienne was imprisoned. It was not a warm spring shower, which left the world smelling clean and fresh. Nor was it a summer downpour, leaving the air thick and heavy with a dampness, which left men wheezing like old warhorses.

The rain had rattled on the shutters and metal bars of the small window of Brienne’s cell, like a thousand tiny invaders trying to break into her prison. 

The Queen had Brienne locked in the tower nearest the Traitors Walk. If she looked out of the window, all Brienne would see were heads on spikes, no doubt, the reason Cersei picked this particular cell. 

Brienne tried to ignore the stench that drifted into the chamber. She had shut the shutters in a vain attempt to block the smell, and the disturbing view. She couldn’t block the cawing of the crows, which gathered outside her window, pecking away bits of flesh from the severed heads.

The cold chill in the air only made Brienne more miserable. She worried about her children, the last thing she remembered, before one of the guards knocked her unconscious was Cersei ordering the Mountain to kill Cassandra. 

That nightmare of that moment and others still haunted her. Brienne sat up on the scratchy straw mattress, the most recent nightmare, which pulled Brienne from awake from a restless sleep remained vivid in her mind. 

Jaime had appeared out of the mist, in gold armor and a long white cloak. Brienne ran to her husband, only to stop suddenly when Cersei swayed up beside her brother and took his arm.

Jaime looked at Brienne in contempt and said, “It was never yours.” 

His expression turned to one of haughty arrogance, the old Jaime, and he turned to walk arm-in-arm with his sister back into a mist of Lannister madness. 

She shook her head and tried to calm her breathing, it was only a dream it wasn’t real.

When the light knock broke her away from her distraught imaginings, Brienne involuntarily shuddered, believing one of the severed heads had fallen off its spike to bump against her window. The small knock came again and Brienne shivered, _do severed heads knock?_

A small folded piece of parchment slid under the door and Brienne nervously picked it up. Would it be another threat from Cersei? Would it inform her what she already knew, that Cassandra was dead? Brienne unfolded the parchment and her heart leaped, she immediately recognized the disjointed script. Only her husband’s penmanship was so ghastly.

-oOo-

After a few days, Cersei allowed Jaime the freedom to walk around the Red Keep, although with an unwelcome escort. Jaime had hoped his shadow would be Wally, no such luck. The Queen assigned Ser Boros Blount to follow him, and no doubt, report to Cersei, Jaime’s every movement.

Jaime found Cassandra and Tion, where Wally said they would be, in a small dusty nursery, on the far side of Maegor’s Holdfast. The children’s only attendant was an elderly and mostly toothless old scullery maid, too weak to work in the kitchens. The woman was fast asleep when Jaime entered the dark chamber. At first, he was livid, until he realized she was far too old to care for two infants on her own. 

“The only help I get is the handsome young knight,” the woman shook with both age and fear. 

“I will try to get you some help,” Jaime promised which curtailed most of the woman’s fears. 

The old woman sniffed and smiled, showing off her two remaining long yellow teeth. “Thank you, Mi’lord.” 

She curtsied as best she could. Jaime had to grip her elbow and help her stand, before the old woman toppled over.

“Daddy?” a small voice called from the far side of the chamber. Jaime turned and saw Tion, standing up, his little hands grasping at the edge of his crib for balance. The child had heard Jaime’s voice and now his emerald eyes shined with excitement. 

Jaime’s heart soared, his son knew him! Of all his children, only Myrcella had known he was her father, and then only at the end of her life. His daughter had spent most of her life, believing Robert Baratheon was her father. 

He picked Tion up and the little boy wrapped his arms around Jaime’s neck. Jaime silently swore an oath, one he never planned on breaking. This child, all his surviving children would grow up knowing he was their father. 

Jaime smiled and sat down on a straight-backed wooden chair, holding his son in his arms. Tion excitedly chatted, apparently, the child had much to say. Although, Jaime could only follow half of what his young son said, he listened intently, nodding in agreement, every time Tion stopped and looked up to see if his father was still listening. Finally, Tion yawned widely and curled up in Jaime’s arms, falling fast asleep.

Carrying the child to his crib, Jaime gently placed him down and kissed his large forehead. He turned to gaze at Cassandra asleep in in the next crib, bending down he kiss her forehead as well, before he left to find his third child.

Johanna’s nursery was near to the queen’s own chamber and richly decorated in fine silks and lace. Three young handmaids, including Ser Cameron’s daughter, Agnes, doted over for the small child. Jaime knew that at least one of his children was well cared for, after a few minutes watching the activity in the room. 

Jaime trusted Agnes, they shared a bond, the same bond everyone who had fought in the Long Night shared. Nevertheless, for some reason the young maid shied away. When Jaime cornered her with questions about the attack on Casterly Rock, Agnes looked terrified. She glanced over his shoulder, and shivered. When Jaime turned, he noticed Bernadette, Cersei’s personal handmaid and principal spy watching them intently.

The young girl obviously traumatized, forced to serve in the Red Keep, under the ever-watchful eyes of Cersei’s foremost catspaw, it was no wonder Agnes was nervous. It was so much easier, to fear and hate the White Walkers, an enemy who didn’t ply you with kind smiles and false compliments. 

They would have to take Agnes with them when they escaped, and return her to Ser Cameron at Casterly Rock.

-oOo-

The recent rains had made the outer yard of the Red Keep muddy and brown. As Jaime walked across the yard, he made sure to splash the muddy brown water that still lingered in puddles, soiling Ser Boros’ shining black armor.

When Jaime neared the Traitors Walk, the dimwitted knight, tried rather unsuccessfully to stop him. Ser Boros Blount wouldn’t keep him from his lady. 

“Am I a prisoner?” Jaime tuned to challenge the knight, “Not free to walk where I wish.” 

“You are not free to leave the Red Keep.” Ser Boros grunted, “Queen’s orders.”

“And am I leaving the Red Keep?” Jaime asked the man arrogantly, the knight could only sigh and follow Jaime into the low tower near Traitor’s Walk, where the crown detained highborn prisoners.

The tower was musty and damp from the recent rains. Jaime took the stairs two at a time, and when he reached Brienne’s cell, he ordered the guard standing nearby to open the door.

“I’m sorry, Ser Jaime,” the guard timidly said, “The Queen has ordered the door not opened…to anyone.”

No amount of cajoling or threats would convince the guard to open the locked door. The man stayed steadfast in his refusal. Just his luck the one intelligent guard in the seven kingdoms would be blocking Jaime’s path to Brienne.

“Jaime?” Brienne’s voice called from the other side of the door. She had heard her husband and the guard arguing.

Jaime opened the small window, where the servants passed food through the thick oak door. Brienne’s eyes hovered on the other side. Yellowish-green bruises covering her freckled face.

“You’re here?” she breathed, tears falling from her eyes.

“Of course,” Jaime said trying to smile assuredly, “I promised never to leave you?”

“Cassandra and Johanna,” Brienne asked, “are they-?”

“Safe,” Jaime told her. “I will get the girls and you out of here, I promise.”

“No plotting,” Ser Boros’ gruff voice hisses from behind Jaime.

Jaime turned to give the knight a malicious look. Ser Boros swallowed, his large adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as he took a step backwards. 

“No plotting, Ser Jaime,” the knight repeated a little less gruffly.

The small window was just large enough for Jaime to reach his arm through. Jaime stroked his wife’s face as she leaned into his hand and kissed the palm of this hand.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“…and I love you,” Brienne replied.

-oOo-

The next day, Jaime stood in the gallery next to Ser Preston Greenfield. Jaime smiled, apparently, he had annoyed Boros Blount enough, and the knight hadn’t wanted to shadow Jaime for a second day.

Jaime leaned against the railing as the Tyroshi merchant entered the throne room in grand style. The fat merchant, dressed in a long flowing robe of brightly colored silks, held his large head high as he swaggered toward the throne. Following the fat man was a young assistant and six tall slaves, who carried a large cage draped in silk. 

“Jaceo Vasilias, of Tyrosh.” the castle herald announced, before bowing and backing away from the throne.

The Queen leaned forward to study the strange man. His hair and beard, dyed in bright colors, like most Tyroshi. The merchant had long Green hair, swept back and tied in a purple ribbon, which perfectly matched the color of his tri-forked beard, richly decorated in gold and pearl beads. 

The merchant bowed low and with grand pageantry. “You Grace,” he purred in a wet tyroshi drawl, “I am pleased to see, the tales of your beauty were not in exaggeration.”

“Jaceo Vasilias,” The queen replied sternly, “mere flattery will not gain you the upper hand in these negotiations.”

“Is it mere flattery?” Jaceo Vasilias said cunningly, “When a statement is true.”

“What do you want, Jaceo Vasilias?” Cersei asked the flatly.

“An alliance…of trade and arms, with the only true monarch of Westeros,” Jaceo Vasilias replied smarmily.

“Why does a merchant from Tyrosh care who sits on the Iron Throne?” Cersei asked suspiciously.

“Tyroshi are traders…merchants,” Jaceo Vasilias stated, “Daenerys Targaryen would hinder, has already hindered that trade.” 

“You mean the trade in slaves,” Cercei replied, motioning to the fat merchant’s slaves, “slavery is not legal in Westeros.”

“A shame,” The merchant smiled with a toothy grin, “but we are not asking for the expansion of slavery into Westeros, we only ask that the Iron Throne not interfere with the existing trade in Essos.”

“And what are you offering in return?” Cersei inquired.

“Gold…armies,” The fat Merchant replied, “and a gift…”

The Merchant sauntered over to the large cage and motioned to his assistant. The handsome young man, with a thick mop of spiky bright orange hair, who Cersei couldn’t help but notice looked like a young Robert Baratheon. Had her former husband even made it all the way to Essos with his whoring? It was probably a coincidence. She had made sure all of Robert’s bastards, were dead.

The orange haired assistant pulled the silk curtain away with great finesse. Inside, a giant golden lion lay on the floor of the cage. The beast opened two large yellowish-green eyes and blinked at the Queen as she approached. The beast was solid muscle, a barrel chest, short legs and a stub of a tail. Yawning widely, the large lion showed off two huge curved fangs. 

“From the far southern plains of Sothoryos,” the merchant smiled at the Queen, “the living symbol of House Lannister.”

“It is marvelous,” Cersei couldn’t hide her delight in the beast, “and can it be trained, for war…to fight?”

“Oh yes, You Grace, the inhabitants of Sothoryos, breed the beasts for battle.” The fat merchant lied, he really didn’t know, but it was what the Queen wanted to hear. 

As expected Cersei, pleased by the merchant’s flattery and his gift, agreed to allow Jaceo Vasilias to stay within the Red Keep and negotiate a trade deal. 

While Qyburn and the merchant worked out the details, the merchant’s slaves would begin work on a large enclosure, in the gardens behind the Throne Room, to house the Queen’s gift.

“Ser Walder,” the Queen said as she turned to the young Queensguard who until now had stood motionless next to the Iron Throne, “Please escort our guest to chambers in the Maidenvault.”

On hearing his name, the young knight’s eyes regained focus and he stepped down from the dais and ushered the fat merchant from the Throne Room.

As they walked across the yard, the merchant studied the knight as he struggled to keep pace with the younger man’s longer strides. 

“Walder? That is an unusual name,” the fat merchant said in his thick Tyroshi drawl. 

“Not really,” the young knight replied haughtily. 

Wally didn’t really want to talk to the fat merchant. He had met men just like him before, when he sailed on the Valyrian. It was true, his former captain was also from Tyrosh, but Sallahdor Saan never traded in slaves.

Most of Wally’s dealings with men like Jaceo Vasilias came from when the Valyrian attacked the slow moving slave ships and stole their gold. The captain would then free the slaves, leaving the captain and crew of the slave ship to their former captives’ mercy. 

“Is it a family name?” the fat man asked, apparently failing to notice Wally’s distaste and still trying to engage the young knight in conversation.

“Yes,” Wally replied curtly.

“Your father?” Jaceo Vasilias studied the young man suspiciously.

“Grandfather.” Wally replied as he opened a door to a grand chamber on the ground floor of the Maidenvault, “Your chamber…servants will be along shortly with a bath.”

The young knight turned quickly, before the fat merchant could ask another inane question, marching away, a frown of repugnance on his young face.

When Jaceo Vasilias entered the chamber, the first thing he did was lock the door, not wanting, the servants to barge in on him unannounced. Sitting down on the overly soft feather mattress, the fat merchant scratched at his face, peeling away a layer of thick skin. 

Arya Stark sighed after removing the copious features of the fat merchant. Wearing Jaceo Vasilias’ face made her hot and clammy. The man had disgusted her when he was alive, which was one of the reasons she had killed him and taken his face. She smiled slyly, remembering how he had squealed like a pig, when she stabbed her knife deep into the folds of fat that comprised his obtuse stomach. 

Although, wearing the fat merchant’s face wasn’t what really bothered her, it was the handsome young knight, Ser Walder. Arya was positive she knew who the young man was, Red Walder Frey, the last living son of Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister. 

If she was right, it could complicate their escape plan. Arya promised Lord Emmon, she would find and return his son to him. However, if Red Walder Frey, in misguided loyalty to Cersei, tried to stop them, she would have no choice but to kill him. 

A year ago, Arya wouldn’t have thought twice about killing a Frey. That was before Emmon Frey had risk his life to save her during the Long Night, before Lady Genna, had sacrificed herself to save both Arya and Sansa. Genna Lannister had bravely stood between the sisters and the Night King, giving Arya and Sansa time to escape. 

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Arya swore to herself, clutching her fists.

A knock on the door reminded her of the servants and the promised bath. She quickly replaced the fat merchants face and opened the door. Several servants hurried in carrying a large tub, towels and buckets of water.


	7. Dragon Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> something terrible happens,

Chapter Seven  
Dragon Eggs

The day was been hot and dry, for anyone working outside, the blazing sun was a mystery. The heat didn’t trouble the slaves of Jaceo Vasilias. Many of the tall men wore scarves wrapped around their heads and faces, protecting their heads from the burning sun, and their identities from any courtly catspaw, who happened to stop and watch their labor.

The six men were not really slaves, at least not anymore. They were fierce Unsullied warriors, freed by Daenerys Targaryen, when she had sacked the slave city of Astaphor.

Jaime spent all morning watching the Unsullied build a grand enclosure for the Queen’s newest pet, a giant saber-toothed-lion. From all appearances, Jaime was only casually chatting with the fat merchant’s assistant, as the young man supervised the construction. If anyone noticed, it wouldn’t seem odd, the large lion was a fascinating creature, and why wouldn’t Jaime be interested? He was still a Lannister after all. 

As Jaime walked away from the enclosure, he glanced around for his shadow, and discovered he had lost another one. Ser Arys Oakheart was his fourth escort this week. He had already managed to exasperate Ser Boros Blount, Ser Preston Greenfield and Ser Osmund kettleblack. 

He wondered what had been Oakheart’s final straw, was it when Jaime changed Tion’s small clothes? Absentmindedly, on purpose, tossing the dirty linen behind him and hitting Ser Arys square in the face. Maybe it was the small stones, Jaime accidently, on purpose, dislodged from the battlements, to land on the knight’s head and denting his helmet. Jaime chuckled wondering whom he would get to annoy tomorrow. 

Jaime was also pleased their plan was falling into place. Gendry would pass the location of Brienne and the girls along to Arya Stark. The young man would also tell Arya of the change of plans, that they would be taking, Tion, Agnes and Wally with them. 

He knew Arya would be irritated at the deviations in her well thought out plan. Nevertheless, she would adapt, Arya was anything if not flexible. Jaime had never met anyone who could think on her feet as fast, as the young assassin. 

Jaime had hoped to talk with Wally and tell him the plan was proceeding on schedule. After meeting Wally a week ago, Jaime had grown fond of his young cousin. In many way the youth reminded Jaime of himself, when he was young and not tainted by the trauma of his past. 

Although, Wally did have a touch of shrewdness, from his days as a pirate, that Jaime never possessed when he was sixteen. The only person Jaime had ever met that carried more knives, hidden around his person, was Bronn. 

The young man had laughed when he told his shocked older cousin, that one extra knife, hidden in a boot or up a sleeve was often the only thing standing between live and death, when a brawl broke out in one of the brothels or seedy alehouses the crew of the Valyrian would frequent while in port. 

Talking to Wally would have to wait. The young knight was guarding Cersei in the Throne Room today. Jaime involuntary shuddered, as he remembered when he had stood next to the Iron Throne, protecting another mad monarch. At least Cersei wasn’t as far gone as Mad King Aerys, at least Jaime hoped she wasn’t.

-oOo-

Cersei hadn’t ordered him to the Throne Room or bothered to visit his chamber, as she was wont to do. Since Jamie had returned to Kings Landing, on several occasions, she had just barged into his chamber, trying to manipulate his emotions, with sentiments or threats, sometimes both. He was relieved she hadn’t made an appearance today, until Jaime found out the reason.

The moon was high in the night sky when Jaime awoke to the sound of his door creaking open. He was immanently on edge. His jaw locked, he had expected Cersei eventually to try sneaking into his room at night, wanting more than he was willing to give. 

In the dim light of the moon, Jaime could make out the shape of the intruder. Thankfully, it wasn’t Cersei, the figure in his chamber was taller, and he wore a long cloak. 

“Wally?” Jaime asked in concern as the younger man fell to his knees, “what happened? What has she done?”

“She…she burned them all,” Wally gasped clutching his chest, struggling to breath. Jaime could tell the young man was crying. 

Panic filled Jaime’s heart as he rushed to the young man and crouched down. He grabbed his cousin’s shoulders, bringing his face even with Wally’s so he could look into the youth’s eyes. He prayed to the old gods and the new. _Please gods don’t let it be Brienne, Cassandra, Johanna or Tion._

“Who, who did she burn?” Jaime’s hand trembled even as he asked the question.

“The Velaryons of Driftmark” Wally cried and shuddered again, “All of them, the whole house.” 

“The Velaryons?” Jaime asked in confusion. 

Jaime searched his memory, trying to place House Velaryon. Lord Monterys, the Lord of the Tides, the Velaryon’s ruled the island of Driftmark in Blackwater Bay, their sigil, a silver seahorse on a banner of green. 

The Velaryon’s lineage reached back to old Valyria, Lord Monerys even had the silver hair and purple eyes, reminiscent of his ancestors from that mysterious lost island. 

“Why?” Jaime asked in confusion, “House Velaryon has always been loyal to the crown.”

“Qyburn needed a blood sacrifice…a sacrifice of old Valyrian blood to hatch the dragon egg.” Wally shook as he recalled the events from earlier in the day. 

_A Dragon egg?_ A cold child ran down Jaime’s spine, how had Cersei gotten a hold of a dragon age? 

Then, Jaime remembered the story Martyn Reyne had told them in Winterfell. Martyn and Qyburn had once been friends, before the mysterious city of Asshai changed the former Maester forever. 

They had found five dragon eggs in the mountains above the Shadowlands. On their return to Asshai, they sold three of the eggs to a merchant sea captain, Qyburn and Martyn had each kept one of the remaining two eggs. 

Before his death, Martyn had given his dragon egg to King Jon. Apparently, Qyburn kept his egg all these years and had now given the dragon egg to Cersei. 

“She ordered the family tied together in the middle of the throne room and the egg placed between them.” Wally continued with a sob, “Qyburn he…he chanted in old Valyrian, while the Velaryon’s…,” 

Wally cried in horror, “and then, the dragon…it crawled out of the flames, as Lord Monterys, his wife and children burned alive.”

Jaime didn’t know what terrified him more. That Qyburn and Cersei had somehow managed to hatch a dragon egg, or that she had fallen so far into madness, to sacrifice an entire family. She had done it before of course, but the Tyrells and the high Sparrow had been their enemies. The Velaryons were innocent and they were her allies.

“It isn’t your fault,” Jaime said trying to console the young man. The older knight knew more than anyone how Wally felt, “you couldn’t have saved them.”

“I didn’t even try!” Wally cried covering his face with his hands, “I just stood there, I should have tried.”

“…and then you would be dead,” Jaime replied shaking the young man, “and where would Tion and Cassandra be then?”

“Tion…?” Wally gasped, concern for the child overriding his shame at doing nothing to stop the madness he had witnesses.

“You have to stay alive Wally, for Tion if no one else,” Jaime shook the younger man, so he would remember.

Wally nodded, and again gasped for air, trying to calm himself.

The door rattled and swung open. Still kneeling on the floor, the two men stared up at the intruders. The Mountain stepped in first, followed by Cersei. 

“I thought this is where I might find you,” she sighed, the Queen held a wine glass and she looked to be in a celebratory mood, “you don’t think I know what goes on in my own keep?”

She looked down at the two men kneeling before her. They had nearly identical features. Jaime’s face was older and leaner, with slight lines around the corners of his eyes, which only made him more handsome. Her brother still insisted on cutting his golden blond hair short and a few strands had turned gray. 

Wally’s face was rounder, as he still held on to his boyish youth. The young man wore his reddish-blond hair long. Although he had recently started tying his hair back in a ponytail, which annoyed Cersei, because it made his large ears stand out like handles on a teacup. 

Jaime rose first, protectively pushing Wally behind him, as he scowled at his sister, “What do you want Cersei?”

“I assume our dear cousin has already told you,” Cersei smile happily, “that foreign whore isn’t the only one with dragons now.”

“You can’t actually believe that dragon will bend to your will?” Jaime sneered at her. He had seen dragons, and they did not bend, and they didn’t bow down to just anyone. 

“I do…Qyburn discovered an ancient Valyrian rite, which bound the beast, and he has assured me, with the proper sacrifices it should grow quickly.” The Queen smiled and took a drink from her wine glass, “by the time that bitch arrives with her dragons, Tywinius will be more than a match.”

“Why are you really here Cersei, if it’s just to gloat, you can leave now,” Jaime growled. 

He wanted Cersei gone, Jaime knew he would have to risk getting in touch with Arya tonight, and he couldn’t do that until Cersei left. They would have to move up the time of their escape, and warn Jon and Daenerys of this new development.

“Hmm, not just yet,” Cersei smirked and there was a longing in her eyes that Jaime recognized all too well, “I have…need of Ser Walder tonight. He has defied me, for far too long.”

Jaime turned to look at this cousin, the young man’s eyes went wide and he shook his head, backing away from the Queen and her giant bodyguard.

“He’s not interested,” Jaime scoffed as he turned back to his sister.

“Of course he is,” Cersei laughed haughtily, “He was a sailor and a pirate, it’s not as if he is innocent to the ways of the flesh.”

Cersei motioned to the Mountain. The large man was faster than he looked, and reached around Jaime, grabbing Wally’s arm and yanking him forward. 

“Never, you’re a…you murderous old hag!” Wally shouted at the Queen as he struggled against the Mountain’s grasp.

“You dare!” Cersei growled, her eyes flashing in anger, “Ser Gregor, if he doesn’t come willingly, kill him.”

Jaime wasn’t surprised when a knife appeared in Wally’s hand, seemingly from out of nowhere and dug deep into Clegane’s hand. 

The young former pirate had reacted, as he would have, in a bar fight or when one of the gruffer pirates tried to grab him in the holds of the ship. It was Wally’s skill with a blade, which had kept the unsavory members of the Valyrian’s crew away.

The Mountain only looked down at this hand and laughed, as no blood poured from the deep gash. The monster smirked as he lifted Wally struggling into the air, ready to smash the young man’s head against the wall. 

“Cersei,” Jaime yelled, “He’s just a boy, call your creature off.”

Cersei raised her hand, motioning the Mountain to stop, a glint in her cold green eyes, “Are you willing to take his place?” Cersei cooed a sly smile rising on her lips, “I would rather it be you.”

Jaime sighed and nodded, resigned to his fate as the Mountain dropped Wally to the floor, before escorting Jaime to the Queen’s chamber.

-oOo-

The sun shined through the open window and cast a warm glow onto Jaime’s face. He blinked at the bright morning sun, and noticed a warm body in bed next to him. He involuntarily flinched away when he remembered who lay by his side.

Cersei sighed in her sleep and curled against him, wrapping her arm around his waist. Jaime couldn’t help but notice she was naked, as was he. 

Bile rose in his throat as he remembered previous night. He felt violated, used. Jaime wondered if what she had done what she had forced him to do. Could a man be raped, was it even possible? Forced to lay with Cersei against his will, wasn’t that the very definition of rape? 

His mind flashed back to when he and Brienne were prisoners of Locke and the Bolton forces. 

__

_“Close your eyes and pretend they’re Renly,” he tried to advise his stubborn young traveling companion._

_“If you were a woman, you wouldn’t resist?” She had asked, “You would let them do what they wanted?”_

_“If I was a woman,” Jaime had replied, “they would have to kill me.”_

_Brienne, his stubborn wench, she had resisted, and Jaime shivered as he remembered her screams and the sound of Locke’s men beating her as he sat helpless, tied to a tree._

A wave of guilt washed over him. He hadn’t resisted Cersei, and he hadn’t forced her to order the Mountain to kill him. 

If it hadn’t been him waking up in Cersei’s bed, it would have been Wally. If the young man wasn’t dead, because Wally would have, did resist, when he plunged his knife deep into the Mountain’s hand.

Jaime looked down at his sister, it would be so easy to murder her right now, wrap his hand around her thin neck and squeeze. He could almost imagine the life falling away from her eyes, and the last thing she saw, would be his face. 

He reached for her neck when he heard the slink of metal sliding against metal. He turned and saw Gregor Clegane, still standing guard near the door, staring at Jaime with sinister red eyes.

Jaime wondered, _Had the beast stood there all night, watching them? Did the creature even need sleep? Was he even human anymore?_

Clegane hadn’t bleed when Wally stabbed him. Jaime could still see the long gash in the Mountain’s hand. The deep wound looked like someone had carved into a slab of bloodless well-cooked meat. 

Jaime found his breeches, shirt and boots, glancing over as the Mountain as he quickly dressed. Hurrying to the door, Jaime’s heart jumped when the Mountain made a sudden movement. Luckily, that was all the beast did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love


	8. Mastermind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya's brilliant and well planed escape has to be reworked, as more and more people need rescuing from the evil clutched of the Queen.

Chapter Eight  
Mastermind

The sun crawled over the horizon, painting the sky in vivid pinks and blues, reminiscent of the colors of Tarth, gracefully blending to create a glorious new dawn. The Red Keep shimmered in a golden glow that flowed over the pale red stone, hunting shadows that tried into escape into dark corners.

Even early in the morning the castle was ablaze with activity. Servants hurried back and forth, preparing for a day of indulgences and leisure for the highborn guests of the Queen.

Laughter fill the air, emanating from the gardens and the kitchen, as servants harvested fresh fruit from the orchard and the cook negotiated with farmers over the price of their fresh produce. 

Jaime walked through the outer yard, avoiding servants as the hurried to finish the preparations for the coming day. The first place Jaime went after he left Cersei’s chamber was the tower, where the Queen had imprisoned Brienne. He needed to tell to his wife, and explain what happened and why, before Cersei could tell her, and gloat over Brienne’s reaction. 

A different guard stood in front of Brienne’s door, and he luckily proved easy to manipulate. Unlike the stoic Gold Cloak who usually guarded Brienne’s door, the man seemed only interested in grousing about how Danul, the one intelligent guard in the Seven Kingdoms, had for several days, not shown up for any of his shifts.

To Jaime’s relief it only took several half-hearted threats and a little cajoling for the guard acquiesce and open the door. 

Brienne was still asleep when the door to her cell swung open. Her eyes fluttered open as he knelt down next to her, “Jaime?”

“Wench-,” he started to say, but was knocked over when her arms flung around his neck. 

They landed on the floor, as Brienne covered his face with kisses. Jaime pulled her into his arms, never wanting to let her go. It wasn’t until he noticed Brienne wince that he loosened his embrace and helped her onto the bed. 

The yellowish bruises still covered Brienne’s face and were only now just beginning to heal. The bruising continued down her neck and under her raiment. Against her protests, Jaime removed her gambeson and lifted the loose shirt she wore underneath, more bruises covered Brienne’s side, back and arms. 

“Who did this?” Jaime growled. 

“Qyburn,” Brienne replied with a gasp as her shirt moved against the bruises, “he made sure it hurt, but also that there would be no permanent damage.” 

“He will pay,” He snarled in a gruff whisper, “Qyburn and Cersei will both pay.”

Jaime stroked her hair using his fingers to loosen some of the snarls and dried blood. Couldn’t his bitch sister have a least allowed her a comb? 

Finally, Jaime signed and ran his knuckles down her face, avoiding the bruising to raise her chin to look up into his eyes. 

Brienne didn’t say a word as he explained how he had spent the previous night. Jaime felt his soul shatter, as sorrow flooded Brienne’s vivid blue eyes. Telling Brienne was the right thing to do, it better she heard it from him, than Cersei, but it had hurt her. The trust in her eyes, that had always been there, faded for only a moment, as anxieties and insecurities flooded her mind. _Had he liked it? Would he do it again, willingly?_

When Brienne looked into Jaime’s emerald eyes, she saw only the horror over what he had experienced. She trusted him and knew Jaime had neither enjoyed his sister’s touches, nor wished for them again. 

When Jaime finished, she took his face in her hands and kissed him softly. 

“It’s ok Jaime, you're safe now,” was all she said as she laid her head on this shoulder, clutching his jerkin tightly above his heart.

“You...you’re not mad,” Jaime asked in disbelieve.

“I’m livid…at her.” Brienne replied, “You didn’t wish it, she forced you.” 

Jaime didn’t miss the tears that fell from her eyes and dampened his jerkin. He laid his head on her hair, his own eyes glistening with the tears he unsuccessfully tried to fight back.

-oOo-

Arya lay in bed pondering the changes in her well thought out escape plan. Gendry was still asleep next to her, snoring loudly. She couldn’t think through that racket and jabbed him in the ribs causing him to moan and roll over on his side.

She was a little concerned, now that more people seemed to know of their plans. She had thought Jaime Lannister would be more, discrete. What did he do? Stand on top of the Red Keep’s battlements and shout, _‘we’re escaping, who wants to come with?’_

Arya remembered Agnes from Winterfell. She knew they couldn’t leave her behind. She was one of them, one of Winterfell’s defenders and that was a bond, no one who fought in the Long Night would ever forget. 

That bond was so strong, many of the knights and lords from the houses of the Westerlands, who had followed Ser Jaime north, had willingly bent the knee to Jon and Daenerys. They now fought against Cersei’s forces in the south. 

The few knights and lords that hadn’t joined the war on the Northern side, like Jaime and Bronn, swore to stay out of the battle. Preferring to remain in their keeps and castles, as the Seven Kingdoms once again fell into civil war. 

House Marbrand was the only Western house that fought at Winterfell, and now fought against them. Although, it wasn’t Addam Marbrand, who bent the knee to Cersei, it was his father Damon Marbrand. Much to his father’s chagrin, Ser Addam remained in Winterfell, helping Sansa rebuild the north. 

Agnes was the daughter of a landed western knight, and like most of the highborn southern girls who followed their fathers north, Agnes at first, resisted learning to fight. 

The whores, who had followed the two southern armies, were at least willing to learn, many of them already had some skill with a knife. 

Arya recalled Agnes, as a young pretty girl, with long golden blond hair and blue eyes. She was hopeless with a sword. Every time Arya had clashed against her, Agnes had squealed and dropped her sword. However, Agnes wasn’t useless she had shown some skill with a bow. The young girl had bravely stood with the rest of the archers on the wooden towers during the Long Night. 

Red Walder Frey apparently had some skill with a blade. Cersei had after all knighted the young man and named him to her Queensguard. 

In her disguise as Jaceo Vasilias, the fat Tyroshi merchant, Qyburn had given Arya a tour of the Red Keep. The Queen’s Hand hoped to impress the rich merchant with the grandeur of the Capital. If the Fat Tyroshi was swayed, maybe they could fleece him of enough gold to hire another army of mercenaries. 

Almost half of the Golden Company had fallen to the Night King, in what Qyburn had warned the Queen was an ill-advised attempt to attack the North. What remained of her mercenary forces, was struggling to hold onto the land they had retaken, while Daenerys battled the forces of death in the North. 

Arya didn’t mind the grandiose tour it gave her the opportunity to scout the Red Keep for possible escape routes. It was during one of these tours, that Arya had watched Wally train in the yard, he was impressive. His fighting style was a mix of Westerosi and water dancing. 

Jaime had also vouched for the youth and swore that Wally Frey wasn’t loyal to Cersei and he had only joined the Queensguard under great duress. The young knight might prove useful, if something went wrong and they had to fight their way out of the Red Keep.

Arya smiled, she was actually relieved she wouldn’t have to kill Red Walder Frey. She could still keep her promise to Lord Emmon, and return his son. 

It was the logistics of the situation, which really bothered Arya. She had hoped Cersei would have imprisoned Brienne and the babies in the same cell, or at least in the same tower. Instead, Cersei had spread her hostages throughout the Red Keep. 

Arya knew she wouldn’t be able to free all of the prisoners alone, like she had originally planned. She would have to depend on her fellow conspirators. Arya had hoped to use Jaime as a distraction, keeping the Queen occupied while she released Brienne and the girls. That wouldn’t work now, as she needed Jaime somewhere else. 

Johanna would be a problem, guarded and surrounded by servants. Her nursery was located near the Queen’s own chambers, in the most heavily guarded area of Maegor’s Holdfast. Even freeing Brienne would be easier, locked inside a tower near the Traitor’s Walk and watched by only a few, usually surly guards. 

She would rescue Brienne, herself. If a guard got in the way, she wanted them taken out silently, and neither Jaime nor the Hound could fight quietly. Bronn was an option, he was quite sneaky, but Arya couldn’t take the chance that one of the guards might recognize him. 

Instead of distracting the queen, Jaime would rescue Johanna and Agnes. The guards had allowed Jaime near the nursery. Maybe he could convince them, he was only going to walk in the Godswood with his daughter and her handmaid. Yes, she smiled, that would work.

Cassandra and Tion, wouldn’t be a problem at all, according to Jaime’s information, both babies, shared the same nursery and the only servant was an elderly woman who slept most of the time. 

Arya would send Wally Frey along with Gendry to free the two infants, as she still wasn’t ready to trust Ser Walder Frey yet. 

_He was a Frey after all,_ Arya found herself thinking, before she remembered, not all Freys are bad. Emmon wasn’t bad, maybe a little whiney and skittish sometimes, but he was a good man and braver than most people believed. 

Arya smiled, it could work. They would have to coordinate their movements carefully. Turning to Gendry, and poked him in the ribs again, rousting him from a restful sleep.

“Wake up,” she said and poked him again, “We have plans to discuss.”

-oOo-

Gendry, yawned as he finally made it out of the chamber he shared with Arya. She had made sure he understood all the details of the revised escape plan and was able to pass the information on to Jaime.

Then Arya had laughed, jumping on him and they had rolled around on the bed for a few hours, before he finally and unwillingly left their chamber. They both had obligations in the morning, Arya was meeting Qyburn, to break her fast and discuss the trade deal. Gendry had keep up the illusion of supervising the Unsullied building a pen to house the Queen’s gift.

As Gendry made his way to the half-completed lion enclosure, he saw Jaime already waiting. The knight was standing next to Kevan’s cage, a look of total despair written across his face as he reached through the bars and stroked the large lion’s golden mane. 

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Gendry warned him, “you’re not supposed to know he won’t bite your hand off."

Jaime quickly pulled his hand away. Gendry was right, if anyone had seen him stroking the large lion’s mane, they would believe he was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave or they might just believe he had also gone insane. _Why not? Insanity seems to run my family._ Jaime thought to himself.

The Unsullied were already working when Gendry and Jaime finally arrived. Scarves wrapped around their heads hiding their faces from the sun’s bright rays. One of the slaves stopped working and sauntered over to where Gendry and Jaime stood. 

“You’re not walking like a slave,” Gendry cautioned. 

The man came to a halt next Jaime and Gendry, tucking his hands into his belt and raising his chin high to glare down at the young man. 

“And you’re a cunt,” Bronn relied with a wicked grin, “Where have you two been? We’ve been out here all fookin’ morning.”

Bronn had traded places with one of the Unsullied, to pass along messages and coordinate their escape. 

Gendry looked guilty and turned a shade of red that almost matched his brightly dyed orange hair. 

“I’m sorry, Lord Reyne,” Gendry mumbled, “there has been a change of plans and Lady Arya wanted to make sure I had all the details correct before I-.”

“Aye, and I bet that wasn’t all she wanted?” Bronn smirked, which caused Gendry to blush even brighter. 

Jaime pressed his lips together and looked at Bronn sideways, he was sure a complaining rant was on the way.

“It’s Fookin’ hot,” Bronn growled, “I’m a high lord now…can someone please tell me…why I’m out here, working my ass off, in this bloody heat? While you two cunts, just stand around-.”…and there it was.

“I haven’t got it much better, I have to wear this ridicules get-up.” Gendry motioned to his gaudy silk robe, before he pointed to his bright orange hair, “and look at my hair! This shit is never going to come out.” 

“Fuck that,” Bronn scoffed, “I’d trade places with you-.”

“Cersei knows you,” Jaime interrupted Bronn dryly, “…and besides you’re the one with all the disreputable contacts in the city. Did you manage to get a boat?”

Jaime hoped changing the subject would to put an end to the whinging, from both of them. 

Bronn nodded and replied, “Aye, I’ve got your boat, it’s hidden in the cove below the sewer exit of the Red Keep, so anytime you’re ready-.”

“Good,” Jaime said, “because, we’re leaving tonight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are Love.


	9. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Spring Sorrows. It is a little long, but I didn't want to leave it int he middle. This story may get sad for a bit, but read to the end and I promise you will like the ending.

Chapter Eight  
Escape 

The light from the sconces flickered off his bronze armor as the guard hurried up the narrow steps of the tower. When he reached the corridor, where the Queen had ordered the women held, he slowed and unconsciously gripped the hilt of his sword.

A single watchman leaned against the wall in front of the door, picking his nose. When he noticed the guard approaching, he stood up and glowered. 

“Danul! Where in the seven hells have you been?” the man snarled, “I’ve had to work double shifts for a week.”

“Problems…with um, the family,” Danul lied, “I had the Commander’s approval, didn’t he tell you?”

“Are the kids okay?” the guard’s expression changed to one of concern, “I know it’s been hard on your family, sense your wife died when the sept-.”

Danul paused for a moment, “um…they’re fine.” He answered with a slight shudder. 

_Kids?_ Arya thought guiltily, when she killed the guard and taken his face, she hadn’t known. Arya’s disquieting thoughts where interrupted when she noticed the door to Brienne’s cell was ajar.

“What happened to the prisoner?” She asked, looking into the small chamber, Brienne was gone.

“The Mountain escorted the Kingslayer's whore to the Throne Room…,” the nose picking guard replied with an uninterested shrug. 

“Hey wait, Danul, where you going?” the guard shouted after Arya, as she hurried away.

-oOo-

Jaime glared back at Boros Blount as the stocky knight roughly shoved him forward. Ser Boros and Ser Preston marched behind Jaime and Agnes, herding them toward the Throne Room.

Something had defiantly gone wrong. When Jaime arrived in Johanna’s nursery, his little daughter was gone, replaced by the two surly knights. Jaime had tried to fight, until Blount grabbed Agnes holding a blade to the girl’s throat and threatening to kill her if he didn’t surrender. 

Jaime sighed, lowered his blade, if he still had both his hands, he could have easily defeated both knights, and rescued the maiden. Jaime was still a better swordsman than either knight was individually, but he couldn’t fight them both.

As they entered the large Throne Room, Bronn, Sandor Clegane and the Unsullied warriors, who had accompanied them to Kings Landing where locked in chains off to the side of the large chamber, surrounded by a whole company of Gold Cloaks.

Wisps of smoke still lingered over the fire pit in the middle of the Throne Room. The site, were Cersei had burned the Velaryons alive, so she could hatch the dragon egg. An iron chain still hung loosely from a tall stake, where the mad queen had chained the family. 

Jaime’s eyes widened as he took in the scene before him, his wife knelt before the pit, and smoking remains of what looked like three small bundles of cloth. Brienne’s clutched at the small bundled, shrill screams of anguish filled the large chamber. 

Jaime ignored the barking threats of Ser Boros and rushed forward, kneeling down and encircling his wife in his arms. He had never seen Brienne so distraught, even during the Long Night, when they had lost so many. 

Then he saw the reason, the three small bundles in the fire pit, were not mere bundles of cloth, but three small bodies, wrapped in blankets and burned to ash.

Cersei’s piercing laugh interrupted his horror, and Jaime looked up into his sister cold green eyes. 

“Why?” Jaime could only gasped in shock.

“My family has betrayed me for the very last time,” Cersei sneered, “First Mother and then Father left me alone, at the mercy of our enemies.”

Cersei stood and walked toward the fire pit, glaring at Jaime and Brienne in contempt. 

“Tyrion and…then even you, my brother, my only love…betrayed me, aligning yourselves with the dragons and wolves.” The Queen sighed and looked down into the fire pit, “Better the little one’s die now, before they, grew up and betrayed me.”

“You are insane,” Jaime gasped, pulling Brienne closer, his wife could only gasp for air as she clung onto his jerkin, pressing her forehead against his chest.

“Ah…more of conspirators,” Cersei said looking up as Wally and Gendry, arms tied behind their backs, were forced down beside Jaime and Brienne. 

“Your little escape plan has failed Jaime,” Cersei tittered, “You were always to trusting. You never even considered you had a spy in your midst.”

Jaime turned to look at Wally. He was the only one who knew of the escape plan, who hadn’t fought in the Long Night. 

Wally shook his head, although he wasn’t looking at Jaime, his eyes could only stare in horror at the three small bodies in the fire pit. 

“No…I didn’t…It wasn’t me,” Wally said turning to look up at Jaime, tears rolling down his young face. 

Cersei laughed and reached out her hand. “You were always to trusting,” Agnes stood up, walking to the Queen.

“Why?” Brienne gasped looking up at the young handmaid, “you one of us, you fought at Winterfell.”

“I didn’t ask to fight, it was forced on me,” Agnes cried, although she at least had the scruples to look guilty. 

“I don’t know how you managed to corrupt father,” Agnes sobbed, “We have always been loyal to the crown, and Queen Cersei, not some foreign usurper.”

“You stupid girl, do you even realize what you have done-?” Jaime said in a low growl, he wanted to shout, to howl at her, he wanted to be angry. He knew that Agnes was just a foolish girl, manipulated by Cersei’s sweet talk and false promises. He couldn’t even blame her, because for so many years, he had allowed himself to fall under his sister’s influence. He had also done terrible things in her name.

“Leave her alone Jaime,” Cersei scoffed at him, talking the Agnes’ arm and patting her hand, “You did the right thing, little dove.”

The Queen motioned to her handmaid, “Bernadette, please see Lady Agnes to her chambers, she has suffered enough.”

While the two handmaid’s left, Jaime glanced over at Wally. The young knight had a determined look on his face and a small knife appeared in his hand. Wally twisted his arms and used the blade to scrape the ropes binding his hands. 

“What about their other accomplice?” Cersei asked her guards, “the fat merchant?”

“We found this in the merchants chambers, Your Grade,” one of the guards held up the loose fleshy face of Jaceo Vasilias.

“So Jaceo Vasilias wasn’t one of you?” Cersei asked as she looked down at the face in disgust, “you used him to gain entrance to the Red Keep, and then you murdered him, mutilated his corpse, and you call me insane?”

Qyburn stepped forward and took the mass of flesh from the guard turning the face over in his hands, “Your Grace, this is the disguise of a…Faceless Man.”

Rage and fear filled Cersei’s eyes as she turned her gaze back to her brother, “How could you?…Bring an assassin into my home, to murder us in our sleep!” 

“Your Grace, this Faceless Man could still be on the loose, and he could be anyone,” Qyburn warned, looking around Throne Room for any suspicious activity.

Cersei’s eyes darted around the chamber, paranoia rippling across her features. 

She shouted at the guards, “Find him!” 

Several guards, looked around, confused, before they hurried out of the Throne Room, secretly happy to escape the insanity that was erupting around them.

Cersei quickly walked back to the Throne, and sat down to glower at her prisoners, her traitor brother, his whore and their scum allies, all of who wanted her dead. 

A horn blast suddenly drew her attention away, and a moment later, a young Maester hurried into the Throne Room.

“What now?” Cersei snarled at the Maester.

“Your Grace, the city is under attack.” The Maester nervously replied.

“By…whom?” Cersei shouted, standing up and clutching her fists.

“Ironborn raiders Your Grace,” The Maester replied with a shiver, as he backed away from the Queen’s fury.

“Impossible, Euron would never.” Cersei said shaking her head. 

“It’s not Lord Greyjoy, Your Grace,” the Maester shuddered, “its…its Theon Greyjoy…he sent a Raven with demands.” 

“Where is Euron?’ Cersei shouted at the frightened Maester as she snatched the parchment from his hand, “Why isn’t he here? Protecting me from his vile family.”

Cersei read the parchment, her scowl growing, until her whole face twisted with rage. Crumpling the message, she tossed it angrily at Qyburn. 

“That cockless coward claims he has Euron’s head, impaled on the prow of his ship,” She screamed, turning back to Qyburn, as the old man reached down and picked up the crumpled parchment, “and he is in league with Sallahdor Saan’s remaining pirate fleet.”

“He claims, he will spare the city if you release his sister…,” Qyburn said reading the parchment, “Maybe we should consider-,”

“Never,” Cersei shouted at her Hand, “Burn Fleabottom…stop him…Theon Greyjoy and his band of pirates will never reach the Red Keep.”

“Even in death Captain Sallahdor will have his revenge,” Wally shouted at the Queen.

Cersei glared down at Wally, before turning to the Mountain and sneering, “Kill him!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaime saw the one intelligent guard, Danul suspiciously move from behind the Hound and Bronn.

A moment later, all Seven Hells broke loose in the Throne Room. 

Wally suddenly jumped to his feet, his hands free, and a knife appeared in his hands. The knife flew through the air before Cersei cried out in pain as it lodged deep into her shoulder.

The Mountain lumbered toward Wally, clutching Bronn’s valyrian steel sword, Brightroar in this massive hand. The young knight dodged as the Mountain swung the golden sword. 

Wally Reached the Queen, who sat on the floor next to the throne clutching her shoulder, grabbing the front of Cersei’s grown and yanked her to her feet. 

After freeing Bronn and Sandor, Arya Stark yanked off Danul’s face and pulled Oathkeeper and Redemption, from under her cloak, tossing them to their respective owners. 

Unnoticed in the confusion of the battle, Qyburn inched backwards and disappeared through a side passage behind the throne. 

The Mountain still clutching Brightroar in his large hand, turned toward the throne, where Wally held the struggling Queen in a death grip. The large man suddenly stopped as both the Hound and Arya Stark fell on him.

Arya used her Valyrian steel dagger to slice through the Mountains sword arm. The large hand, still twitching and the golden valyrian steel sword rattled to the floor. 

Bronn dodged passed as the Mountain’s swung his arms widely, darting under the large man to recover his sword, before the beast could pick it up with his left hand. 

Meanwhile, Jaime ran to the throne and grabbed Wally’s arm, “No…I won’t let you live with the stain of being a Queenslayer.”

“Jaime,” Cersei gasped at Jaime’s arm, “my brother, I knew you would save me.”

Jaime turned to look down at his sister, when Cersei looked into his eyes, fear spread across her face. 

“Valonquar,” she gasped and tried to crawl away from her little brother. Jaime reached out with his left hand grabbed her delicate neck, pushing her down onto the throne. 

A knife flew passed Jaime’s head, and Boros Blount collapsed next the throne. Turning, Jaime saw his young cousin, who nodded before he turned to join the battle exploding around them. 

Wally returned, with the iron chain from the fire pit, slightly glowing from the heat. 

The metal links burned in Jaime’s left hand, as he wrapped the chain around his Golden hand. The heat melted the gilded gold, leaving only Iron. The smell of burning flesh assaulted Jaime’s nose as he wrapped the chain around Cersei’s neck and pulled it taut. 

A load roar echoed through the hall, as a giant creature, although still small for a dragon, it was still the size of a horse, crawled from behind the throne, followed closely by Qyburn, who was chanting under his breath. 

_How did it get so big, so fast,_ was all Jaime could think as the beast’s two dark eyes turned to glare at Jaime in hatred. 

The dragon opened its mouth to reveal a ball of fire dancing deep inside its throat. Suddenly a blur of golden fur crashed into the dragon the beast lurched backwards. A hiss of escaping air and the smell of sulfur filled the Throne Room as Kevan sunk his large curved fangs into the dragon’s chest. 

Jaime tried to ignore the rolling ball of fur, scales, teeth and fire as the Saber-tooth-lion and the dragon crashed into the throne. Jaime yanked on the chain on last time before he dropped Cersei’s lifeless body to the floor. 

Brienne and Wally were standing back to back keeping the remaining Queensguard away from the Queen. Arys Oakheart swung his sword in the wide arc. Brienne ducked and pushed Oathkeeper under the knight’s armors. Turning she kicked another knight knocking him backwards into an Unsullied warrior, who turned and stabbed the man in the neck in one fluid motion. 

The young man at her back was pushing against two knights. He plunged his sword into the gap between the Ser Preston’s breastplate and arm guard. Turning quickly, Wally stabbed his knife in the neck of the second man.

Arya had jumped on the Mountain’s back and dug her valyrian steel dagger into the man’s large neck, twisting the blade. 

The Mountain didn’t seem to feel any pain as reach up to pull her from his shoulders, but his brother, Sandor seemed to blocked his every movement.

Theon Greyjoy suddenly appeared in the entrance of the Throne Room, followed by several Ironborn raiders. Their blades already drawn, Theon had expected they would have to fight, before Cersei told him where she held Yara. He hadn’t expected to walk into a battle already in progress. 

“Where is my sister?” he demanded of anyone who might answer, looking around in confusion. 

Than Theon noticed who was fighting, he said in awe, “Arya? Is that you?”

“We’re a little busy right now, Theon!” Arya yelled at him as she continued to stab her dagger into the thrashing Mountain, “Your sister is in the low tower next to the main gate!”

 _They could have at least stayed to fight,_ Arya thought as Theon and all his men turned and fled from the Throne Room. She shouldn’t complain the Ironborn was probably the reason no more guards had flooded into the Throne Room to put an end to the fighting. 

Bronn finished off two Gold Cloaks and turned to see the Hound and Arya still struggling against the Mountain, their repeated stabs and slashes having no effect on the large beast.

“Clegane, he’s a wight!” Bronn shouted, tossing the Hound his valyrian sword, Brightroar.

Arya leapt backwards, landing in a crouch behind the large man. She looked up just in time as Sandor cleaved the golden sword through his brother’s thick neck, his monstrous head feel forward. Arya had to jump back again, as Gregor Clegane’s large body, still twitching fell backwards. 

Now that the Mountain was dead, Arya turned and ran to the throne where Cersei’s body still lay collapsed on the floor. Arya knelt down and pulled the hot metal chain away from the Queen’s neck, the cooling links had burned a pattern into the delicate skin around Cersei’s neck. 

Arya couldn’t find a pulse, she sighed, another person on her list, who someone else had killed before she had her chance. The young assassin pulled her dagger across the Queen’s neck, just to make sure, before she jumped up to join the battle that still raged around her. 

-oOo-

"We hold the castle,” Theon announced when he returned to the Throne Room, holding onto his sister, as he looked over the scene, he would have expected a joyous response, he only received blank stares filled with sorrow. 

Bronn was kneeling, holding the head of the large lion in his arms. Kevan was badly burned and deep scratched covers his body. The large lion gasped for air, and whimpered, before Kevan closed his large yellow-green forever. 

“Sorry about your…cat,” the Hound said sincerely, he had never liked the large lion, but the beast had value, it had killed the dragon. The monstrous creature lay nearby, its body and wings ripped apart and large gashes covered its torso.

“He was the only thing I had left of Martyn,” Bronn said turning to look up at Arya Stark and Sandor Clegane.

“That’s not true,” Arya replied and knelt down next to the knight laying a kind hand on his shoulder, “you will always have Castamere.”

“And your sword,” the Hound said, handing Brightroar back to Bronn. 

Bronn could only nod sadly, as he stroked Kevan’s golden mane. 

Brienne, Jaime and Wally, knelt next to the fire pit and were removing the three charred bodies from the ashes. A few strands of golden hair on one of the small corpses, identifying the body as Tion. The bodies of the two other babies were so badly burned they couldn’t tell the two twins apart.

“We will bury them,” Brienne said tears running down her blood stained face, “all three of them on Tarth, on a hill overlooking the sea.” 

“Tion will like that,” Wally sniffed, “Someplace where he can see the albatross’ flying overhead.”

Theon sighed, he knew he wasn’t a leader, but Yara was still too weak, and everyone else was too distraught to take on the task. Someone had to take command until Daenerys arrived. Ordering his men secure the castle and to search the keep for Qyburn and any other loyalist. 

In the confusion, Qyburn escaped into the night, along with several loyalist and Cersei’s corpse.

**Prologue**

The far side of the canyon disappeared in the mist, as the young man stood on the balcony of this chamber. Far below in the city on the canyon floor, small dots of people went about their everyday business, not knowing the intrigue that happened in the halls above them.

He felt a presence next to him, and looked up…and up…and up. It wasn’t that surprising he looked up at most people. His sister looked down at him and smiled kindly. The dim light of the sunset glittered in her brilliant blue eye.

His tall sister was beautiful in an untraditional way. Her long golden hair tightly plaited in a single long braid, which fell down her muscled back. A slight spattering of freckled covered her cheeks. Her most startling feature the red patch that covered the left side of her face. 

Six years ago, when they were just ten years old, in a drunken rage, their mother had gouged out the young girl’s left eye. Their Maester had tried unsuccessfully to reattach the girl’s eyeball, only to have an infection scar her face. Eventually the old Maester had painfully remove the infected eye and ever since, his sister had worn the patch to hide her missing and scared features.

“It’s done than?” He asked, “Mother is dead?”

His stoic sister pressed her lips together and nodded, motioning him to follow her to the crypt. Before they even arrived, they heard sobs emanating from the chamber.

-oOo-

The light from the glowing black candles danced in the dark chamber and reflected off the long golden hair of their other sister, Johanna knelt beside their mother, laid out on a stone alter in the middle of the chamber.

Several small grey-skinned servants stood off to the side of the chamber, the light reflecting in their large dark eyes and over their pointed ears. The elvan Greylings whispered and fearfully looked at their dead Queen. Tion knew they wouldn’t approve of the funeral rite. The people of the canyon buried their dead face down so their spirits wouldn’t rise into the air and haunt the living. 

Much to the displeasure of the local people, Johanna insisted on a traditional Westeros burial. Their Mother lay facing the heavens, two small stones, painted to resemble vivid green eyes placed over her sunken eye sockets. 

Stepping up on a ledge, next to the alter Tion looked down at his mother, Queen Cersei of the Canyon and Southern Plain. Even in death, she was beautiful. She had always been lovely, even in her fits of rage. A red and gold choker was wrapped snugly around Cersei’s neck, hiding a chain pattern that scarred her delicate neck. 

Glancing up at Johanna, he noticed the cream powder she always wore to hide her freckles had run, leaving long streaks down her face. She rose to her feet, sniffing and trying to smother her sobs. She towered over him, both his sisters were statuesque, they were twins after all, and shared many of the same features. Although, their Mother’s favorite was lankier then her twin and she had brilliant green eyes, like their mother and himself. 

“Cassie…Tion,” Johanna gasped as she ran into her sister's strong arms.

Johanna and Cassandra both sunk to their knees and pulled Tion into their embrace. The only way they could all hold onto each other, as Tion stood only as high as his sister’s thin waists. 

“It’s just us now,” Johanna sobbed placing her slim hand on Tion’s face and looking into his emerald green eyes.

“It has always been just us,” Cassandra said stoically. 

Johanna nodded, she had loved her mother, but she realized the Queen had often been cruel to her siblings. There had been times, growing up when it was only Johanna’s pleads that had saved Cassandra or Tion from their mothers wrath. 

Tion had avoided much of their mother’s anger, by the age of five, his intelligence had impressed their Maester and the young boy had spent most of this time learning from Qyburn and exploring the ruins of the Canyon civilization. Cassandra wasn't as lucky and wore the scars of Cersei's wrath. 

Before Qyburn had died three years ago, he and Tion had undiscovered much of the Greylings lost history and magic. The small gray-skinned people had been powerful once, a thousand years ago. 

Their downfall came, when the elven Greylings of old tried to call on an ancient evil, to help rid their lands of an influx of strong warriors, human men from the north of Sothoryos, advanced only in the art of war. The stories that survived in myth and written on crumbling parchment mentioned creatures that emerged from the mists to devour, men and Greyling alike. 

The creatures of the mist pushed the invading men onto the plains above the canyon, where a few primitive bands still survived, hunting the large Saber-toothed-lions that roamed the open grasslands. 

The creatures then turned on their creators and the Greyling civilization collapsed. The Greylings and the Men of the Plains survived only by abandoning their homes to roam the land as nomads, avoiding the mist that rolled in each morning. 

According to legend, it was only forty years ago, when a powerful wizard, stepped out of the mist and defeated the creatures, ending their millennium long struggle. However it was too late, both the Men of the Plains and the Greylings in the canyon had lost their culture, their knowledge of war, medicine, and their magic. 

Thirteen years ago, when the retinue of a disgraced Queen from a faraway land arrived in the canyon, she was able to subdue of the Greylings and the primitive men who roamed plains in nomadic bands, Cersei became their Queen, and ruled with an Iron fist.

For all her cruelty, both the Greylings and the Men of the Plains flourished under Cersei’s harsh rule. The Greylings had resettled in their ancient cities and trade in furs and ivory was established with the Plainsmen.

“It is time for us to leave,” Johanna said gently stroking both her sibling’s faces. 

“Leave?” Tion asked, “Why would we leave? You are the Queen now.”

Johanna smiled at her brother, stroking his face, “Dear brother, I realize you love this…place, but it is not our true home.”

“You mean to return to Westeros?” Cassandra asked, not really shocked she knew their mother had poisoned Johanna with the dream of returning to that far away land of Weteros and reclaiming her lost throne.

“I agree with Tion, we should remain here and-.” Cassandra started to reply. 

“No,” Johanna shouted interrupting her sister, before she smiled sweetly and leaned in, gently resting her forehead against her twin’s brow.

Kissing her sister’s one remaining eye and moving to her lips and gently kiss her, Johanna hummed, “I need you sister…be the commander of my Queensguard.”

Johanna turned to Tion, using the same charm, stroking his golden hair and kissing him softly on his lips, “and you my brother…shall be my Hand, and together we will avenge our mother and reclaim her kingdom from the usurper who banished us to this vulgar land.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are Love

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love.


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